Tell Me What You Know
by CeffylGwyn
Summary: Rynelle is running from her past, and without a future when she comes across one of the knights of the round table. He offers her protection from her worst nightmare, but at a price. Will she be able escape the life she has left behind? Or will what she fears the most catch her when she least expects it? AU *COMPLETE*
1. Prologue: Run

**A/N:** Heeeey there everybody! This will hopefully be something that I flesh out into a fully fledged fic after my other one **_Tell Me What You See _**is done. **THIS IS NOT A ONE-SHOT, **it's just a plot bunny that won't go away, and I'm hoping that by writing it out I will be able to concentrate on my other one to finally finish it :P This story will probably be on hiatus for a while actually (a couple of months maybe) unless I get overwhelming support for it and people love it (that's not meant to be blackmail btw :P), as I am really trying to focus on my other story.

OK, well, _**Tell Me What You**_** Know** begins approximately a year after the events of **_Tell Me What You_ See**, which took place 3 years after the battle of Badon Hill, and I'm actually writing it as kind of a sequel/parallel story whatever.

To lovers of KA Mythology out there, just a hint, I have made the protagonist 'Rynelle''s name very similar (in my mind) to another character in the mythology (For a reason of course - I always do things for a reason! :P) Metaphorical cookie for whoever gets it right!

So here goes! Read and Review if you have time!

Most importantly, ENJOY! :)

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...Prologue...

470 A.D.

The cries of men on horses and their dogs grew ever louder behind her as she ran. Her heart was pounding as she ran, her muscles straining to carry her faster. Only certain death lay behind her, and even as her breathing grew more ragged Rynelle forced herself to continue.

A bird took to the air in front of her, stopping Rynelle in her tracks in surprise, her flight must have startled it from it's nest. She heard the twang of a bowstring, and the bird fell down dead at her feet. 'Over there men!' she heard a man call from behind her, and she bit back a scream of terror and forced herself to continue running, as fast as she was able.

Suddenly, her foot caught on something; and she fell, tangling herself in her skirts and grazing her leg on the tough bark of the root she had tripped over. Doggedly, she barely gave herself time to breathe before she stood and continued, the sounds of the hounds growing ever louder in her ears.

Rynelle ran out of the clearing, and scrambled to a halt at the tip of a cliff, pushing a few small stones over the side in her haste to stop herself from falling off. Utterly exhausted she turned, the sounds of her hunters drawing ever closer. Her body was wracked with huge sobs as she knew she was going to lose this fight.

She swore to herself that she would never go back there. Never again would a man touch her, with his body or his whip. She would rather die, Rynelle decided as she looked down into the fast-flowing, icy water below her.

Just as the men and their horses burst from the trees, Rynelle barely gave them a fleeting glimpse before taking a deep breath. She steeled herself, and jumped, never letting out a sound as she fell down into the freezing water of the river below, before being dragged under by the raging current.

• • •

The man on his horse rode slowly over to where the girl had jumped off the cliff, peering over the side and leering when he saw the churning water below. 'My Lord Gower!' one of his soldiers remarked to him, 'She could not have survived that! It is a twenty-foot drop to the river below, which is freezing this time of year!'

'Yes my lord,' another added, 'especially with all the rocks, they would have cut her to pieces!'

Gower growled at the men's impudence to assume his thoughts, and backhanded the first who spoke to him. 'Do not assume anything you fools!' he hissed at them, yanking his horses head around to face back the way they had come, 'The little witch has always had an uncanny knack for survival! Search downriver for her body, it's bound to wash up sometime. Do not stop until you find her, or part of her, I want to know that she is dead.'

He wiped a piece of spittle from the side of his mouth that had escaped during his frustrated spiel. Slowly, Gower took a deep breath before continuing. 'If you find her and she is not dead,' he sneered coldly, an evil smile spreading across his lips, as he rode off, leaving his men to search downriver, 'bring her back to me...alive. There are things I wish to discuss with my dear cousin.'

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**A/N:** BTW the name for this fic comes from a line in the song '_Tell me now (What you see)_' from the movie King Arthur (2004)


	2. Awaken

**A/N:** Hey there! I was SO happy with the number of people that favourited/followed that I couldn't help but post this first chapter! EEeeep! Much love people!

I have a feeling this fic is also going to be very much research-driven like my other one (considering I couldn't help myself and have already done a huge amount of background literary searches :P) lol.

I'm especially grateful to **DancinThroughLife**, **KilalaInara**, **drivenunder**, and **ShayleeZala** - you guys made my day(s)! This chapters all yours :)

Reviews please if you have time! I love them! Most importantly - ENJOY!

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I.

The still water erupted as Rynelle burst into the air, gasping for breath. Choking and coughing, she pushed herself into shallower water and just lay there, half-in-half-out of the water.

As soon as she had jumped from the cliff and landed in the river, the current had dragged her down and spun her around and around until she was dizzy. Then, it had thrown her against rocks and unseen branches in the water, which left innumerable cuts and bruises on her pale skin and tore through her clothes.

As she gently touched a stinging gash on her forehead, Rynelle counted her blessings that she was still alive. Then again, was it better to drown or to face the nightmare that was at her heels? She could only pray that Gower and his dogs thought she had drowned.

On shaky legs, she pulled herself out of the river, the hard, sharp stones along the bank digging into her feet. Somehow in her wild flight she had lost her shoes, and the water had left her blonde, already windblown hair in a tangled mess of wet tendrils, interspersed with leaves and twigs.

Rynelle stumbled into the woods, and began to walk, knowing nothing other than that she had to get away from the water, they could still find her there. Soon, the cut on her forehead began to throb painfully and blood dripped into her eyes, obscuring her vision. Rynelle had no idea where she had gone, how far she had gone or how long she had been walking. Utterly exhausted, she fell, unable to take another step, collapsing at the base of a large tree and drifted into the relief of unconsciousness.

• • •

Rynelle woke to the smell of herbs and a crackling fire. Dimly she realised she was in a small room and tried to sit up, wincing when she disturbed the injuries she had accumulated in her cliff fall. 'Luigh síos cailín! Cad a cheapann tú atá tú ag déanamh?' A voice spoke up from behind her.

Rynelle fumbled about in fear, trying to get out of the bed and instead tangling herself further in her sheets until a firm hand pushed her back. 'Stop ag bogadh cailín! Feicfidh tú ghlanadh ar shiul leis an obair atá déanta agam díreach.'

Weakly, Rynelle pushed herself back into the mattress as far as she could. All her life she had heard tales of the viciousness of the Woads, however, the old woman standing before her didn't really seem much of a threat. Her clothes were neat and fairly clean, her hands wrinkled and worn, and her long greying hair was tied back in a loose plait. Then again, you never could really judge on appearances, Rynelle mused bleakly, she had fallen for that type of thing before, and the Woad woman's eyes were sharp, black and intelligent, not missing anything.

'Ná bí ag cailín eagla. Is gá dom chun breathnú ar do díobhálacha. Gach go thrashing thart!' the woman grumbled, moving towards her and causing Rynelle to shrink back into the pillows. Close up Rynelle could see the faded blue-ink tattoos on her hands and arms as the old woman reached out to her, and quickly she squeezed her eyes shut.

The hands that checked her cuts and bruises was surprisingly gentle and tentatively Rynelle opened one eye to see what the Woad woman was doing to her. The old woman stared at the bandages and poultices her hands were changing, her gaze flickering up for a moment to catch the younger woman's eyes, 'Bí go fóill. Is é mo ainm Neamhain.'

Rynelle squirmed, wishing that she knew how to speak the language of the Woads to know what was being said. The old woman sighed dramatically when she realised the younger woman did not understand, and she placed a hand on her own chest 'I am Neamhain.' she said with difficulty.

The words were guttural and heavily accented, but Rynelle vaguely recognised the woman was trying to convey her name. She cleared her throat awkwardly, suddenly unsure of herself and everything she knew. This Woad woman had apparently pulled her from the forest, tended to her injuries and still she could not offer up a name to this woman who had perhaps saved her life?

'I am Rynelle.' she croaked, suddenly realising how dry her throat was as she pointed to herself. Neamhain smiled at the younger woman, and reached for a nearby pitcher, pouring a cup which she handed to Rynelle.

When the older woman made drinking motions, Rynelle took a sip and to her relief found the cup to contain water. Gratefully she gulped down the whole cup, and Neamhain nodded, 'Dea-, good.' she said gruffly to the younger woman, her hands gentle as they pushed her back into the pillows, 'Codladh anois.'

Gladly, Rynelle let sleep wash over her and relaxed back into her pillow, watching as Neamhain moved off to poke the embers of the fire. As her eyes closed, she prayed that the nightmares that had plagued her for years would disappear now that finally, she was free.

• • •

_Rynelle looked around the room she awoke in with some trepidation, she should have known she would not suddenly have been free from the darkness that shrouded her. She had been 15 the first time she had set foot in it 3 years ago, and now, in her dream state, it was exactly the same as when she had first been brought there. A vase full of small and delicate native flowers stood on a small table in the corner of the room next to a bed. There was a window on the wall opposite to her and small trunk at the end of the bed in which she could put all her clothes._

_Quickly she walked to the window and looked outside, soaking in the view of the surrounding countryside dotted with farms and woodlands. Unable to stop her younger self, Rynelle turned and smiled at her cousin. 'My Lord Gower, it is beautiful.' she murmured, her voice trembling with gratitude, 'Thankyou for your kindness, especially in the midst of the lot that has been mine of late.'_

_Rynelle was almost sick when she looked over at him, he was by no means ugly, quite attractive in fact with his dark hair and eyes, and square jaw. But she knew the monster that lay underneath the handsome, friendly and charming skin._

_'That is no trouble at all my lovely cousin. I am only sorry that I could not stop all of the unfortunate events that have befallen you from happening.' Gower took her hand in his and kissed it, making the older Rynelle's skin crawl as he touched her skin 'I hope you will be happy here.'_

_Rynelle tried to scream her frustration, but no sound escaped her lips. She wanted nothing more than to jump at the man, to claw at his face with her nails until he bled. But that was not what had happened, her 15 year old self had stood there and blushed at his charm, and she had fallen right into his trap._

_The scene changed, the dark smoke of her dreams wrapping around her and placing her back in that room, sometime later, years later. He was there again, at night presumably from the dark that surrounded her. Rynelle's heart almost stopped. _Not those nightmares _she pleaded with herself but she could not stop it._

_Desperately she tried to escape the scene that was unfolding before her, but Rynelle had not tried to escape any of those nights, and she could not escape now. She simply trembled. 'Hello my dear cousin.' Gower leered. _

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**_Luigh síos cailín! Cad a cheapann tú atá tú ag déanamh?:_**_ Lie down girl! What do you think you're doing?_

**_Stop ag bogadh cailín! Feicfidh tú ghlanadh ar shiul leis an obair atá déanta agam díreach:_**_ Stop moving girl! You'll undo all the work I have just done_

**_Ná bí ag cailín eagla. Is gá dom chun breathnú ar do díobhálacha. Gach go thrashing thart!: _**_Do not be scared girl. I need to look at your injuries. All that thrashing around!_

**_Bí go fóill. Is é mo ainm Neamhain:_**_ Be still. My name is Neamhain._

**A/N:** OK peeps, it was a bit short, but that was the absolute LAST chapter to be posted before I have finished **_Tell Me What You See_ **because I'd really rather not give anything away :P (After all this is kind of a sequel)


	3. Reflections

**A/N:** Hey there everyone! Here's chapter 2! (yay) I was suffering from major writers block with this one for a while, until** lewilder**unconsciously gave me a nudge about what to write. Thanks so much! :) (Seriously people, if you haven't already, check out her fic 'Token'. Only a few chapters are up but it's already quite promising and beautifully written! Such talent I'm jelly :P)

Much love to **Kristall**, **xforgottenxmemoriesx**, **L0nelyHeartsClub**, **Cassoraha** and** lou-lou90 **thanks guys, you're all added to the wonderful list from last chapter! This one's for you :)

Anyways, read, review, follow and favourite peeps - but most importantly ENJOY! :)

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II.

Gawain downed another mug of ale in one gulp, taking a deep breath as he surveyed the room of the noisy tavern. The knights were all there, Tristan was quiet and smouldering in a corner as he cleaned one of his knives. Lancelot was playing a game of dice, and by the look on his face, was winning a lot of money; and Bors was standing at the bar with Vanora and their many children.

Gawain shook his head as he looked at the quarreling pair and the children that ran ferally every which way about the room. He had no desire for a wife and children, the need to settle down was not strong in his blood. That had always been Galahad's greatest wish, not his.

His best friend was sitting with his woman Kalyna, their heads close together. Their story was a long yet fulfilling one, and Gawain was happy for Galahad, and the love he had found. Yet every time he saw them together, he could not help but feel a little saddened that his best friend had found what he was looking for, yet he, Gawain, was still so unsure.

'Gawain! Stop moping!' Galahad called from his table across the room, a grin splitting his face as he stood and moved to the dice tables, 'Come over here and look after my woman while I go win us some money!'

Gawain couldn't help but smile as the woman in question made a mock-horrified expression and gave her man a half-hearted smack on the leg as he passed. 'He's going to lose us more money than he wins.' Kalyna drawled to Gawain as he plonked himself down beside her, 'And he wonders why we'll never be able to move out of the long-house.'

'He'll make it up to you later I'm sure' Gawain laughed good-naturedly, masking his pondering's with a smile.

Kalyna gave him a wink in reply, 'I'm sure he will.' she smirked. They sat in companionable silence for a while, sipping their mugs of ale and watching Vanora run around after her children until Kalyna let out a wistful sigh. 'You know, it is times like these I wish for a family.' she said. Slightly bamboozled at her openness, Gawain open and closed his mouth as he looked for a comment he could make. Luckily he was saved from replying when she continued, 'You know, you have reminded me of someone since the day we met. I think it was your hair, that was what was similar.'

Gawain's brow furrowed in puzzlement, 'What do you mean?'.

'I remembered your face - although it was not yours if that makes any sense; from my past.' she said.

At that, Gawain's tawny coloured eyebrows all but disappeared into his tangled locks of hair in surprise. 'Please explain my Lady.' he said, 'You confuse me.'

Kalyna sighed and downed the last of her ale, 'When I was travelling in the caravans as a young girl - I remember now. We came across a tribe of Sarmatians and it was the first time I had seen one of my people since Anichka found me.' she replied, her eyes staring off unseeing as she recalled the memory, 'They were very poor but Bryyan traded what we could with them and then we left. One of the men, reminded me much of you now that I think back on it. He had the same prominent features as you, and the same long tawny hair, although he was old and greying.'

His face must have gone pale because Kalyna seemed to look at him for a moment in concern. 'Gawain, are you alright?' she asked worriedly, 'Do you need me to take you to Vivianna? Maybe you shouldn't have anymore ale. Do you want to leave? Maybe I should get Galahad.'

Gawain barked out a laugh, 'Do not worry Kalyna, I am fine - and you say Galahad talks fast! I can see he is rubbing off on you!' he teased, his mind whirling as he absorbed her information. 'This man,' he said casually, taking a swill from his ale, 'Do you remember what happened to him? What was his name do you know?' It could only be him Gawain thought, People used to say I was his splitting image.

Kalyna frowned a moment in thought, 'No, after trading we left and as our people are nomadic, we never saw them again.' she gave him a quick smile, 'but I'm not sure, I'd have to think about the name. I do remember Anichka was very much...'

Suddenly there was a commotion from the dice tables, cutting her off and Kalyna let out a groan as Lancelot and another soldier started yelling at each other. 'Here we go again, fourth time this month, and on my first day off in two weeks!' she muttered, getting to her feet and lithely jumping over the table towards the brewing fight.

Gawain had to marvel at the almost predatory way Kalyna moved as she stormed over to the dice tables. Dimly, he noted that Galahad had unwisely decided it was time to intervene, and the angry soldier sent a punch knocking the slightly intoxicated Sarmatian to the ground. Before anyone else could move, the man that hit Galahad was knocked to the ground by a firm roundhouse kick from Kalyna, her face red with fury that anyone had dared to touch her man.

''What is this knight, you get your woman to fight your battles for you?' the soldier wheezed from the ground as he struggled to stand. 'Coward!'

'Of course not! She just likes and needs to get a little blood on her sometimes - it's a Sarmatian thing, you wouldn't understand,' Gawain drawled, getting to his feet and standing behind the couple, silently backing them, 'Our women have bite to them and Galahad, being such a gentleman must oblige his lady.'

The man on the ground opened his mouth with a sneer, but whatever he had to say was interrupted by the flurry of a royal messenger, who burst into the tavern out of breath. 'My Lords, knights,' he gasped, 'The King calls an urgent meeting with you. You are to go to the great hall at once.' he reiterated when no-one made to move.

It seemed with great reluctance that the brewing fight was crushed as the knights headed out the door. Gawain waited for Galahad as the younger man let his woman pull him to his feet. It still amazed him that Galahad's level of tolerance had increased so much. When he had been younger, and even still as a man he had been so shy, and willing to do anything to fit in. Now he did not care what others thought of him as long as he felt he was doing the right thing. Kalyna was good for him, Gawain decided, she had made a real man of the shy, boyish warrior.

• • •

'Knights, as you know there have been recent upheavals to the South of Camelot, in Caer-Sallog' Arthur said, his voice not raised, but loud enough to carry around the room, 'My intelligence tells me that it is the work of one particular Lord, with whom it has never sat right that I assumed the throne of Britton from the ruin of the Roman withdrawal.'

'Righ' if tha's the case, then why don' we jus' kill 'im then?!' Bors asked raucously, the faint slur to his words an obvious sign of the quantities of drink he had consumed.

'Because Bors, if we do, we'd have every Roman Lord from kingdom come on our backs, and a war in which we would be far outnumbered on our hands.' Lancelot drawled lazily from his chair, 'Really man, we must be political before we can be violent.'

'How's that working for you Lancelot?' Galahad asked sarcastically. The other man was a notorious flirt and had even tried his luck a couple of times with Kalyna. A fact that did not sit well with the younger man.

'Quite well actually,' Lancelot replied with a smirk, 'however I can see it hasn't gone down well with you.'

Gingerly, Galahad touched the bruise that was forming on his cheek as he glared at the dark haired man. 'That is the last time I try and save your arse!' he blustered, and Gawain couldn't help but let out a snort, eliciting another glare in reply. For all his good intentions, Galahad really needed more skills in assessing brawling situations, when to join in, and when to stay out of it.

'I think that is enough men,' Arthur said, for all his sternness a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. 'back to the issue of this meeting. Queen Guinevere - who unfortunately was unable to join us this night due to illness; and I have decided that it is best we send an emissary to this man and his people, offering peace, before we consider any other more drastic measures.'

'What is the man's name and where does he reside?' Tristan spoke up from his seat, a heavy wine goblet in hand.

Arthur thought for a moment, considering his words carefully, 'The man's name is Lord Gower. He is the last in a long line of a noble Roman family, who have had the ears of the Roman emperors for centuries. All his family are dead, his father and mother were fairly poor, yet his uncle and aunt were owners of a great estate. As they had no sons, only a daughter I think, the estate went to Gower after they tragically died in a fire.' the King sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly, 'I have met him only once, but the man, for all he came from a good and respected family, was immediately dislikable. The estate is part of the Caer-Sallog fief, and indeed he is responsible for the cities management.'

At that, the men's faces settled into glum shadows; Galahad and Bors' in particular. The fief in question was far south, and at least a week's journey away from families and loved ones. Sighing heavily, Gawain felt he ought to help his best friend.

'Arthur, since this is only an emissary, do you not think that only one of us need go?' he asked, 'It should not be too dangerous, there has not been a skirmish in months.'

Arthur seemed to consider it for a moment, before shaking his head, 'No, at least two must go.' he said, 'I do not trust this Lord Gower. He is as slippery as a serpent and as cunning as a fox.'

'I will go.' Tristan spoke up, his face settled in it's usual, impenetrable mask.

The King looked back and forth between the two men for a moment before giving a heavy sigh, 'So be it' he said, 'Let us hope your mission will go without issue.'

As Gawain and the others made their way out the door a little while later, after details had been sorted, Galahad all but trotted off to find Kalyna and tell her the good news; that he was not called away after all. Gawain shook his head at the younger man's eagerness, and although Bors complained loudly about not being able to escape his 'bastards' and his 'Nora' as he called them, all could tell that the man was greatly pleased that there was no need to prepare for a long trip.

Gawain noted with some sadness that they were getting old, none other than Tristan of course, had any particular desire to fight anymore. He could feel it in his bones, the years of war and fear and injury finally beginning to take it's toll on his body. Although they still trained, only Tristan killed with the same cold vigour of years gone by.

Bors, the oldest of them all was busy with his large family. Lancelot was busy with his whores and tavern wenches, not to mention any poor unsuspecting maiden that fell into his path; and Galahad, the youngest, seemed like he would be the first to settle down and marry (for although Bors and Vanora had 12 children, Vanora insisted she would not have him, even if he asked her to be his wife).

Never in all his life, had Gawain felt the call of his home and country more keenly as he did that night. Never had he felt more alone.

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**A/N: **Well I hope you liked this chap. I hope Gawain didn't seem too OOC and/or mournful/pathetic. I really think for all his golden-ness and humor, he can be quite a self-reflective character sometimes. Don't worry, he won't be like that all the time though :P Hope you liked it!

Note: Caer-Sallog is present day Salisbury down near London

LOVE Joel Edgerton who just so happens to be Australian btw if you didn't know...lol...just thought I'd put that out there ;) eheheh :P


	4. In Caer Sallog

**A/N:** Hiya there guys! Sorry for the long wait! Soooooo much happening at the moment...anyways HUGE thanks to the following who reviewed/favourited/followed - **JulieAKAweirdo**, (as you're a guest I couldn't reply to your review - so yes he is! LOVE him in that even though it's only a small role...oh well! Eye-candy is enough eh? ;) ) and **im-a-wizard,** - your wonderful! This ones for you guys :)

Anyways, Read Review, Favourite and Follow - but most importantly - ENJOY!

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III.

Gawain decided that there was no one person on this earth that he disliked more than the man he had just met. Lord Gower was as arrogant, rude, sly and greasy as what Arthur had described him as. Gawain narrowed his eyes at the wall of his chamber as he absentmindedly fingered one of his blades.

He and Tristan had arrived early in the morning to Caer-Sallog, five days after they had departed from Caer-Legions. As soon as coming to the gate of the city, they had been accosted as to their business, and only after much argument were allowed to enter. The reception they received was less than friendly, and their official greeting with the lord of the citadel had gone less than smoothly.

• • •

Tristan and Gawain had finally been escorted through the main keep to the great hall after waiting for hours in the main courtyard. Needless to say, they were in a foul mood by the time they entered through the two large doors.

The tawny haired man was visibly angry, his blue eyes flashing as he stormed down the halls. On the other hand the only thing that gave any indication of the scout's annoyance, was the faint tick of a clenched muscle in his jaw.

The servant that had been leading them nodded to the two guards either side of them. As he did so, the two men pushed open the large doors they had stopped in front of. The room they stepped into was larger than they had first anticipated; it was smaller than the great hall of Camelot, but still large enough to fit several long, rectangular tables in. A raised platform at the back of the hall contained a large throne-like chair which Gawain noted with disgust. The tall young man languishing on it, who was being fed what looked like cold meats, provoked nothing but dislike in his mind.

'Ahhhh the famous knights of the beloved King Arthur!' the man Gawain presumed to be Lord Gower called from his seat, a belittling sneer flashing across his features. 'So good of you to come, and uninvited also! To what does this humble lord owe your invigorating presence?'

Gawain could feel his temper rising at this insidious little man, but forced himself to be polite. 'Lord Gower,' he inclined his head respectfully as he spoke, 'King Arthur sends his greetings and invites you to Camelot in a month's time for the weeks festivities celebrating the Queens birthday. You would be his respected guest as a Lord of your station entitles.'

The sneer was gone from the other mans face, replaced by a look of cold indifference. 'What do I care of festivities? ' Gower said with a dismissive wave of his hand, causing the tawny haired knight to bristle indignantly.

'Have a care what you say Roman,' Gawain replied sharply, his temper beginning to get the better of him, 'This is not the Britton of old, run by your people. I suggest you give our King the respect he deserves.'

Out of the corner of his eye, Gawain saw Tristan, who had been silent throughout the meeting, shift his stance slightly, as he always did when preparing for an attack. The soft glint of metal revealed itself as the scout leaned against a pillar, slicing the apple he had produced from his pocket into small, bite-sized pieces.

Gawain noted the silent threat, and so too it seemed, did Gower. The ex-Roman Lord shifted in his seat uncomfortably. The knights, over their years in service to Rome and afterwards had acquired a dangerous reputation and all were feared, some more though than others, if Tristan was anything to go by. His reputation for bloodlust and as a cold-blooded killer struck fear into the hearts of many and Gawain was certain the only ones he counted as friends were his fellow Sarmatians. And that damn bird of his.

'Of course, of course, I meant no disrespect to your King knight' Gower said with false apology.

Gawain cocked his head as he looked at the other man. 'Only our King?' he asked in pretend confusion. If this no good piece of slime was going to play pretend then he would oblige him and play along. 'You are saying 'your' a lot noble. Is not Arthur your King also? We did receive a note containing a missile of your fealty at his coronation...' Gawain trailed off, straightening up and stepping forward in a silent display of aggression.

Lord Gower straightened up from his previously languishing position and stood, the height of the platform he stood on making him tower over the two knights. 'But of course, my Lords, you understand completely my meaning!' he replied, 'Excuse my slip of the tongue, but my mind is else where tonight. My apologies.'

Gawain stepped back to his fellow Sarmatian, and watched as the Roman stayed where he was on his platform, unwilling to give away the small amount of power he had over the other two men.

'Dear knights, you must be tired,' Gower simpered with false sincerity, 'let me have a servant show you to your rooms. Unfortunately I have other business tomorrow and will not have time to see you before you depart. Please send a message of my fealty to your king upon your return.' and that was where they left him as they followed the servant to their rooms.

'There is nothing I would have liked more than to kill that man where he stood,' Gawain growled to Tristan, who sat at the table in the center of the room, 'We have given him his message, and now I feel we must leave as soon as possible.'

Tristan nodded in reply, 'Tonight then, under the cover of darkness we will leave,' the older man said, his voice low and dark, 'but quietly. The walls have ears.'

Gawain continued to think about the look the Roman Lord had given them long into the night, as he waited for the moon to rise into the middle of the sky. He had seen that look once before, on the face of a crazed Druid who had tried to murder the woman Kalyna. One part greed, one part intelligence and three parts insane. Thankfully, the look had been wiped from the Woad's face by one of Galahad's better placed arrows. This time however, on the face of a rich Lord instead of a hunted Druid, it did not bode well.

Suddenly there were two soft knocks on the door, and Tristan slid inside the room, his face, and the braids that framed it shadowed by the cowl of his cloak. 'Come.' the older man said simply, before slipping back out into the corridor, Gawain, in similar attire, following close on his heels.

Just as they turned a corner, they heard footsteps behind them, and the pair pressed themselves against the wall, listening as several men stood at the doors to their rooms. Silently Gawain moved until he could just see around the corner, noting the men were not dressed in the official uniform of soldiers, but in the garb of mercenaries. He watched as one put a finger to his lips, before pulling a dagger from his belt and motioning for his companions to enter the rooms.

Just as he was about to move forward to accost them, Gawain was pulled harshly back into the shadows by a firm hand.

'Do you wish to get out of here alive or not?' Tristan hissed in Gawain's ear, and gripped his arm in vice like fingers until he nodded, 'Then move!'

With a quiet growl, Gawain pushed himself up and around the corner, and down to the stables, feeling Tristan's dark presence behind him. 'Come Gringolet,' he whispered as he tacked up his grey stallion with practiced hands. The horse nickered quietly as if understanding the need for stealth and affectionately nudged his rider before he mounted 'Tristan, let's get out of here.'

When Gawain turned to look for his brother in arms, for the first time, he noticed the man's absence. 'Tristan?' he looked about in confusion, before calling out in a hushed whisper. 'Tristan! Where are you, you stupid scout?'

'I am here.' the older man replied icily as he strode through the front doors of the stable, throwing himself up into his saddle 'The gates are open, we do not have much time. We must go. Quickly!'

With that the two men urged their horses out into the night, their horses hooves slipping on the dirt and cobblestones and cloaks flying behind them as they galloped through the streets. Suddenly, out from the darkness, a voice cried out in alarm to shut the gate.

It was too late however, the knights flew through them before the deed could be done, the pair of soldiers on gate duty lying unconscious at their posts. Gawain stole a glance over his shoulder as they rode and noted several figures on horseback galloping close behind.

'Tristan! Behind!' he called to his friend and the man glanced over his own shoulder, before turning to look over at him and giving a sharp nod, his eyes dark.

As they rounded the corner in the road, they pulled up their horses in the middle of the path and prepared for the men that were rounding the corner. Gawain pulled his axe and sword, each in hand from his belt; twirling them in his hands lovingly. Tristan pulled out his already-strung bow from the front of his saddle and an arrow from his quiver, notching it, ready for the oncoming attack.

The only thing that crossed Gawain's mind as the men rounded the corner, was that they were not dressed as soldiers, instead as mercenaries, presumably the same ones that had been outside their rooms. Then one fell, an arrow in his throat followed soon after, by another, Gawain's axe in his gut. Then everything spiraled down into killing and blood.

• • •

They rode for some time in silence, the rain that was a trademark of the island dripping down from their cloaks and splashing onto already-soaked clothes. They followed the road with all its twists and turns until the fief, and the spilled blood, was far behind them.

Gawain was deep in thought as his mind replayed the deaths of the hapless soldiers. Quickly his gaze flickered over to his dark companion, who rode next to him in stoic silence. Tristan and he had killed the men who had attacked them with ease, and Gawain was a little surprised at the lack of emotion he had felt as he felled the men. Dimly he realised that the more he killed, the more he lost any feeling of regret for the slain. It had been long since he had first spilt blood and long would it be before he did so no more.

Suddenly from the trees ahead, an anguished scream echoed along the road, magnified by the rain and startling the two Sarmatian's from their thoughts. The men looked to each other for a moment, before urging their horses to stretch their strides forward into a full-out gallop, just as another scream rent the air.

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**A/N:** Gringolet is a part of Arthurian Mythology and is the official name of the horse of Gawain, meaning '_snake-headed_' (weird name in my opinion...)


	5. First Impressions

**A/N:** Hi everyone! Sorry it's been so long since I last posted but I got distracted by my Wallander fic (which is done now - phew). I am completely humbled by the number of people who have read/reviewed/followed/favourited this fic since I last updated, especially: **xxmadmooxx1995xx**, **lovebooks87**, **lewilder**, **Fiihox**, **drivenunder**, and **JuileAKAWeirdo** - my guest reviewer. Thanks so much guys! Your support means so much to me!

So a couple of things I need to let all my beloved readers know:

1. I don't think I've mentioned it before in this fic (I did in TMWYS)- but if you guys are a little confused about what Caer-Legions is - it what in modern days, we call 'Camelot'. Yes Caer-Legions is a real place, and one of the possible places thought to be the court of King Arthur. I based the structure of Caer-Legions (which is in current day Chester in West England) on Portchester Castle.

2. After doing a fair bit of research, I based the Sarmatian language (if I use it at any point during this fic) on phonetic Ukrainian. Also, Woad/Pictish is based on Welsh. If you want to know why, read my other fic TMWYS I explain there (I think :P).

3. **DancinThroughLife** put an excellent point to me a while ago (and I've been mulling over it ever since) that many of you read fanfiction through your phones, and find it difficult to scroll down, read the translation at the bottom of the page and scroll back up to continue reading the story. For continuity, it was my belief that if the character didn't know what was being said, the reader shouldn't know till the end either...HOWEVER I have come to realise that if two characters are talking to one another and KNOW what the other is saying, then I have changed my mind, and I will put the translations next to the words. :)

4. I am sorry to say I will not be updating for at least two weeks after this chapter because my exams are now and I will be studying. So hopefully this chapter will get you all through!

Wow that was long...Anyways

Remember to Read, Review, Follow, Favourite and Most Importantly - ENJOY! :)

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IV.

Gawain and Tristan rounded the corner in the road just in time to see a tall man, surrounded by several others, bring a heavy stick down once more onto a figure lying curled up in the middle of the road. As they rode closer, the man noticed them and halted the beating, his six men fanning out behind him in a silent display of strength.

By this time, the rain had halted and turned into a fine drizzle that was purely uncomfortable, as the two knights pulled their horses to a stop some feet away. 'You men, what are you doing?' Gawain called from atop Gringolet. When they did not answer, his eyes narrowed and he urged his horse closer, 'I am I knight of your King Arthur and I ask you to tell me what it is exactly you are doing.'

The man with the stick who was presumably the leader stepped forward, and bowed his head, seemingly respectably. 'We are bringing back a run-away Sir knight, from the house of Lord Gower.'

Gawain's mouth twisted in dislike at the mention of the half-roman's name. The figure on the ground took the opportunity to sit up, and his dislike turned to disgust at the man. Gower's lackeys had managed to beat the person's face black and blue. What startled him even more was that the person was decidedly female with long blonde hair hanging in wet tendrils all about her. One eye that was swollen and half closed, sported a large purple bruise, her lip was split and there were a motley of other colours trailing down her neck, which he could even see in the darkness.

A bright green eye turned on him, and Gawain sighed as she looked up at him pleadingly. Arthur's overly-charitable ways must be rubbing off on him; and far to much for his liking. 'Do you belong to Lord Gower girl?' he asked and she shook her head emphatically, before one of the other men cuffed her to the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, Gawain saw Tristan's almost imperceptible movement, which showed he was more than inclined to kill these men where they stood, 'Right then, she says no and I am inclined to believe her so I suggest you back away now...you got a problem with that?'

The other men had bunched closer to the girl as the leader shook his head. 'You would do well not to interrupt the business of our Lord knight.' the man said.

'Well in my opinion, your Lord was inhospitable and we will take the girl as payment for the maltreatment we have received at his hands.' Gawain replied darkly, angered by the man's refusal. One of the men on the outskirts of the group took a couple of steps forward, his weapon in hand.

'I wouldn't do that if I were you,' Gawain warned calmly, 'Tristan over here isn't house trained, he doesn't mind letting a little blood when he doesn't like someone. You can either give her to us, or we'll take her from you. Your choice.'

The men shifted uneasily in their stances as they considered their options. This was not what they had signed up for - an all out battle against trained knights, they were thugs not mercenaries. Tales of the Sarmatian's barbarity and lust for blood were widely told throughout the land.

Finally the lead man seemed to have made his decision, 'Fine, take her.' he snarled, hauling the girl to her feet and tossing her over to them, 'But you will regret this.'

'I'm sure I will.' Gawain muttered to himself under his breath, as he hauled the girl up in front of him, and skirted the group, Tristan close behind as they made once more for Caer-Legions.

• • •

'You did what?' Gower said icily, his blue eyes cold as they glared at the man in front of him. Slowly, he stood, coiled like a snake that was ready to devour it's prey 'I told you to find her and bring her back here alive, and what do you do, you kill her?'

From what the man had told him, they had found his dear cousin wandering around in the forests. As he had instructed, they had given her a little taste of the vengeance he would be to exact on her when she got home. However, they had gone to far, and apparently killed her, leaving her body for the wild animals.

The tall man stood perfectly still as his Lord prowled around him, 'It was an accident my Lord, an ill-placed blow.' he said, trying to ignore the sweat that was beading at his forehead.

Gower stared at the wall sourly, he had lost his little prize due to the man's roughness, and to top it off, the knights had escaped the night before, slaughtering any who had gotten in their way...if the mercenaries he had sent to kill them were anything to go by. 'Guards!' he called, as the soldiers appeared, 'Take this man to the gaoler, let us see if a month in the cells with no food will be enough time for him to repent on his actions.'

• • •

They had ridden for a full day and half the night before Tristan and Gawain decided to make camp. Both wanted to put as much distance between them and the occurrences of Caer-Sallog. An owl hooted far in the distance as Gawain dismounted and pulled the girl down - who had been asleep since afternoon had fallen - after him.

Neither knight had to tell the other what to do, so long had they been together that they fell into the usual routine of setting up camp. Tristan untacked his stallion and went to hunt for some small creature which they would make a meal of, while Gawain did the same for his horse and collected wood to start a small fire.

The girl they left sleeping amongst their gear, resting her head against the saddles as if they were pillows. A small blaze was already burning fiercely by the time Gawain saw her awaken, probably startled by the light. She seemed to consider him with her one good eye, and silently he continued at his task of building the fire.

'You are lucky we were there.' he said after some time, before looking up and catching her one green eye with his two blue ones, 'else you would have been dead meat girl. What is your name?'

When she didn't answer him, Gawain frowned, mayhap she was mute, she seemed to understand him before just fine. 'Do you understand me?' he tried again, but once more received no answer. Tristan made his entrance, a pair of dead rabbits in hand just as he gave up trying to talk to the girl.

'Tristan do you want to have a turn trying to talk to her?' Gawain asked as he sat down several feet away from them both, 'I have tried and failed.

'If she will not talk to you, what makes you think she will talk to me?' came the grumbled reply, as the other man, did not even look up at him before breaking both rabbits necks, and beginning the task of skinning and gutting them.

The sound of hurried movement came from the girls place across the fire as in one stiff move she got up and raced several feet into the forest before doubling over and emptying the contents of her stomach. Gawain watched her, his blue eyes laughing as she coughed and spat out the last of the bile from her mouth before turning back to face them.

'I will sit here until you are done.' she croaked, catching him by surprise as she moved to a tree, out of sight of Tristan and sat down, leaning against it.

So she could talk. She just didn't deem it fit to answer him when he asked nicely, Gawain frowned to himself, as he considered her bruised form. That was simply not good enough.

• • •

Rynelle reached a shaky hand up to touch the bruise that had swollen her eye shut. She should never have left the house, just like Neamhain told her, but she hadn't listened and decided she needed a wander in the woods nearby to get some fresh air. Now she cursed her stupidity.

Gower's men had found her and dragged her halfway back to Caer-Sallog, beating her along the way, before being interrupted by these two knights. She had heard stories, legends even of the Sarmatian knights barbarous ways. That they drank the blood of the men they had killed to assume their victims strength, that they were great and savage horsemen and much more.

The two that had saved her from the death that would surely have been her fate did not fit that description. The dark one - Tristan, if she had caught his name right was indeed brooding and quiet; almost hawk-like; and the way he had coldly snapped the necks of those two rabbits had made her sick. But then again, she knew, even though she did not see it, that that was how the animals would have been killed had she been back in the keep.

The other one - the one that had tried to talk to her, and had let her ride in front of him the entire journey, looked just as fierce, but golden. Like one of the lions her mother had once told her of long ago, from the stories she had about life in Rome. These could not be the same knights who she had heard the stories about, but then again, was Neamhain anything like the Woads she had heard stories about. In the week and a half she had stayed with the woman, the old lady had been nothing but kind.

Suddenly, movement beside her startled her from the path her wandering mind was taking her down, and forcing her back into the present as the golden man sat down next to her. Immediately Rynelle tensed, even if the stories were not true, and they had both saved her, she was still a single unarmed female, in the company of two, much larger armed men.

'So you can talk little mouse.' he said sternly, fixing his blue eyes on her face 'I see that you just decided not to when I asked you a question.'

It was if her tongue folded in knots whenever this great golden man spoke to her, he left her feeling small and insignificant, and nomatter how much she tried, she could not force the words to leave her mouth.

He sighed and shook his head, the great mane of shaggy blonde hair moving from side to side. 'We will not hurt you little mouse.' he said seriously, before peering back around the tree to look at his compatriot 'I am Gawain, and that, no don't look - he has blood all over him - is Tristan.'

A small smile twitched itself onto Rynelle's lips, at his choice of words and concern, but immediately she regretted the move as her lip split further and the bruise on her eye ached. Wincing, she stopped smiling and held a hand up to her face.

Gawain looked over the girl in concern, she was obviously in a fair amount of pain. 'I will take a look at those if you wish it. It is another three days to Camelot from here before we can get you to a proper healer.' when she looked at him suspiciously, he growled at her, 'Do not worry little mouse, I have said I will not hurt you, and I am true to my word.'

Rynelle considered him for a moment, with her one good eye. He had helped her so far, so what harm would he wish her now. With a nod she turned to face him so that Gawain could see the extent of the damage to her face. While he checked the bruise (which he pronounced to be quite a shiner and would go away in several days) and her split lip, she studied his face - which apart from looking older than it ought, and rather dirty, was honest and truthful.

When he took his hands away, Rynelle took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. 'I am Rynelle.' she whispered, 'Please take me with you.'

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**A/N:** Whooop they finally met - phew. Let us see where this story goes from here! Hope you liked this chapter, and I'll put up more as soon as possible peeps! :)


	6. Caer Legions

**A/N:** Hiya everyone! This is a bit earlier than expected, but I found that this chapter just came relatively easily to me, and I wasn't overly distracted from studying so - here is the next chapter! Hope you like it! Big thankyou to , **Scottishgal12** and **DuchessofAquitaine** for favouriting/following and all of you that reviewed :) this one's for you guys.

Remember to Read, Review, Follow, Favourite and Most Importantly - ENJOY! :)

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V.

Two and a half days later, it was once again, raining. Apart from the sludgy feeling she got when she tried to move around, Rynelle did not mind it. In fact, she loved the feel of the water on her skin. All the years she had spent locked in her rooms had created an insatiable love of all the elements, good or bad. She loved the smell of the rain as the first drops began to patter on the grass and the two knights shifted uncomfortably in their saddles. When those drops turned into an all out downpour, Rynelle relished it even more, it almost felt as if the rain was washing away all the aches and pains she had endured for the past five years.

'I did not know you liked the water so much little mouse,' the deep voice of Gawain rumbled in her ear, as he moved the cloak tighter around her shoulders. 'But I do not think you would like it so much if it caused the sickness to take hold.'

They did not speak for the rest of the journey until the gates of Caer-Legions came into view. She may have loved the newfound feeling of freedom that she had, but Rynelle was more tired and saddle-sore than she liked to admit. In fact, if the knight did not have his arm about her waist, she was sure she would have fallen from the horse in her exhaustion.

As the riders entered the outer keep, Rynelle took note of the grey buildings inside as the rain continued to beat down. Other than a few dark shadows, drifting in the corners of buildings, there seemed to be scarcely any form of life present. The darkness was unsettling to say the least, but perhaps she should attribute that to the weather.

'Where are you taking me?' Rynelle asked quietly.

As soon as she spoke, Tristan, the hawk-man (she had first seen the large bird that came to him the day before) turned to face her, his head cocked to the side. 'To the healer, and then to Arthur.' he said, before nudging his horse ahead of them.

Rynelle shrank back into the warmth of Gawain, she could have sworn she had only spoken loud enough for the tawny haired man to hear. The scout was a little more than a bit intimidating.

'Tristan, was there really a need to scare her half to death with your freakish hearing?! I would rather take her to Vivianna alive!' Gawain called to the man ahead before speaking in more hushed tones to the woman in front of him, 'Don't worry, he'll not bite little mouse...well, not if you're friendly.'

Rynelle glared at the tops of the horse's ears, 'Why do you keep calling me 'little mouse' knight?' she snapped, in annoyance, 'I am no mouse!'

Gawain just laughed as he rode his stallion through the inner bailey and into the keep. Rynelle became more annoyed as his chuckles did not cease when he entered a large stables and pulled up in the warm glow of light and hay. With a loud creak of wood, leather and weapons the man dismounted and looked up at her with laughing eyes. 'I meant no offense...' he smirked as he lifted her off Gringolet, placing her on the ground in front of him, before leading the horse away, 'little mouse.'

Rynelle's eyes narrowed at the departing man's back as he handed his reins to a stableboy. Gawain turned once more, flashing her an irresistible smile, that all but begged her to forgive his laughter. But she resisted...just.

'Come girl, I will take you to Vivianna.' Gawain said with a grin, walking out into the fading light of day (thankfully the rain had stopped), and calling back to her as he went 'Don't dally girl. I don't think there's too much wrong with you but Vivianna will make you feel better...if she doesn't get you with that sharp tongue of hers first!'

With a scowl Rynelle hurried after him as fast as her aching muscles would allow. 'Can you slow down knight please,' she growled, out of breath as Gawain obligingly lessened the speed at which he walked, 'Who is Vivianna?'

'She is the head healer here.' he replied, his face in shadow as he led her from the empty courtyard around and between buildings, 'She will look after you.'

The feeling that something was missing had been nagging her as they walked, and suddenly, Rynelle realised what it was. 'Where is Sir Tristan?' she asked, looking behind her, back the way that had come.

'Sir Tristan,' Gawain chuckled as they continued, 'I would love to see you call him that to his face. He has gone to inform Arthur of our arrival, little mouse, and to let him know we picked something extra up on the way.'

'Who is Arthur?' Rynelle asked automatically, and regretted her words when Gawain turned back to her with an all-knowing smirk as they stopped in front of a door. Oh how she would have loved to see that look wiped from his face.

'He is the king.' he replied smugly, at her shocked expression before knocking on the door that promptly opened to reveal a young woman, a few years older than herself. 'Kalyna!' Gawain exclaimed in surprise, 'I thought you would be in the tavern! What happened? Is Galahad alright? Did the pup get knocked out again?'

The woman - Kalyna it seemed her name was, simply rolled her eyes at the knight. 'So nice to see you too Gawain. It seems that it only takes you under two weeks to forget that I do not simply work in the tavern, but my main job is as an apprentice healer.' she drawled, before a look of concern flashed across her face, 'Get in here and let me look at you. You're not hurt are you?'

The way she spoke to the knight, almost like he were a brother was disconcerting to Rynelle. If she had ever tried talking to her own cousin like, that she would have received a beating and been fed on bread and water for a month.

Gawain shook his head emphatically, 'No, no, I just came to see Vivianna, about her,' he said, jerking his head back at her, and the older woman's eyes turned to Rynelle, 'We picked her up on the way back from Caer-Sallog.'

Kalyna's eyes widened as she took in Rynelle's appearance, and ushered the pair inside. 'What were you thinking Gawain?!' she hissed as she checked the bruises on her face. 'You should have taken her to a healer immediately! Look at the state of her!'

Gawain had the good grace to look a little abashed, as Rynelle sat on the bench having the bruises and cuts on her face cleaned. 'You can go down to the tavern Gawain and make sure Vanora's got dinner for this girl ready by the time we get down there.' Kalyna said, and the man nodded, his eyes flickering to Rynelle's as he exited the room.

'Now,' the fiery brunette turned and fixed her hazel eyes on Rynelle, who quailed a little under the woman's gaze. 'What's your name, and how old are you girl?'

Rynelle blushed as Kalyna led her over to a small screen and ordered her to take off her clothes so she could get a better look at her injuries, 'My name is Rynelle,' she squeaked, 'I am eighteen. I am just slimmer than I ought to be' she added defensively when she caught sight of the other woman's raised eyebrows.

'Alright, alright, just asking' Kalyna said, raising her hands with a smile in defeat. Rynelle turned her back to the older woman as she pulled the dress over her head. The fabric however did not hide the muffled gasp that she heard escape behind her 'Who did this to you?' Kalyna growled and the menacing tone of her voice made Rynelle turn.

She knew what the healer had seen. The criss-cross of pale lines on her back. Not many, but enough. Rynelle presumed there would be bruises there too, adding to the mangled appearance of her body. 'My guardian.' she whispered. That was true enough, Gower was after all her guardian, but she could not tell these people that a LORD had done this to her, who would believe a girl with nobody to support her claims? 'The newer bruises are from some men, whom the knights rescued me from.'

Kalyna seemed to control her temper, and a look of pity replaced her angry expression. 'Come now,' she said, reaching out to the younger woman, 'Let me help clean you up.'

• • •

Kalyna stormed into the tavern some twenty minutes later, unveiled fury evident on her face. 'There is no need to have the food ready for the girl Gawain,' she snarled, as she stalked over to the knights table where all but Bors (who was at home minding his and Vanora's children) were seated. Several customers took one look at her expression, paid quickly and made their escape out into the night. 'She is asleep, exhausted in the healing rooms.'

Galahad stood as she walked towards him, a worried look in his eyes as he took in her haggard appearance. Kalyna however, ignored him and walked straight past, intent on the two newly arrived home knights. Tristan did not raise his eyes from the food he was busy shovelling into his mouth but Gawain had looked to her when she had called his name, apprehension clear on his face. He had never seen the woman this angry, and never before had he been the focus of her rage. It made him uncomfortable to say the least.

'How in the name of the dead, did you not see the extent of that girl's injuries?' Kalyna growled as she stood before them, hands on her hips - the picture of righteous anger. 'Did you not see how much pain she was in? And you, bird boy, don't think you're excused from this either!' she hissed at Tristan, who choked, partway through swallowing a mouthful of food.

Gawain blanched at that, 'Pain?' he frowned, 'No...she was moving a little stiffly, and was out of breath often but...'

Kalyna cut him off with a sharp laugh, 'A 'little stiff' you say, 'out of breath you say'. Call yourself an experienced knight man!' she spat, and the table stilled, this was nothing like the woman they had all come to love as family - this was a demon of fury. 'Apart from the black eye, the split lip, the healing gash on her forehead, and several fresh bruises travelling down her neck; Rynelle also has a collection of scars on her back which look to be the result of a whipping of some sort, several yellowing bruises on top of those, newer, purple bruises on top of that, the same thing on the front of her torso and legs, as well as two, freshly fractured ribs.'

You could have heard a pin drop in the room when Kalyna paused and took a deep breath, her anger spent as she dropped on a seat next to them with a sigh. 'I am sorry. I over-reacted' she muttered, after some time. A frown marring her features as Galahad came to sit beside her, slipping an arm about her waist and pressing a gentle kiss the her temple. 'But sometimes, especially just now, I cannot bear to see the pain that has been inflicted on that poor girl.'

Gawain shook his head, pale-faced, 'No, I am sorry, I should have realised sooner' he cursed, slamming his fist on the table, and standing up as he drained his mug of mead, 'I did not even think to ask.'

'Neither of us did.' Tristan pointed out matter-of-factly from his place on the table.

Kalyna shook her head and tugged the large, blonde man's arm until he sat down once more. 'No, it is alright, I do not think she would have told you, even if you did ask her.'

'So this is the girl you were talking about too Gawain,' Lancelot said lazily, rolling a dice around his hand 'She must be a real charmer if she can so easily slip into the deepest places of your hearts and so quickly too. I think maybe I should go and offer my services to her tomorrow.'

Galahad and Gawain both glared at the man, before Galahad spoke up 'What services would they be Lancelot?' he drawled.

'Why my friendship and companionship of course Galahad.' Lancelot smirked.

'You shall do no such thing. Not unless you wish to incur the wrath of Vivianna.' Kalyna said sternly, with a hint of smugness, as both Gawain and Lancelot's faces fell. The old healer had gotten back from a patient's home just before she had left to come down to the tavern. 'Rynelle need's complete rest for the next few days to get her strength back.'

'Rynelle.' Lancelot purred as if he were savouring the sound of her name, 'What a pretty name, and from what you make of her Gawain, she could be quite...attractive when she's all healed up. Tell me Kalyna, when will we be able to see her?'

'Lancelot...' Gawain let out a warning growl through gritted teeth, but the older man, just flickered his black eyes to him for a moment before giving him a salacious grin.

'Come Kalyna, you look tired.' Galahad said, standing and pulling the woman beside him to her feet. 'Let's go home. Leave them to their squabbling.' he whispered in her ear, just loud enough for her to hear and Kalyna flashed him a grateful smile in reply.

'Oh and Lancelot,' she called over her shoulder as they were about to walk out the door, 'Why don't you ask Vivianna?' Kalyna was wickedly pleased to see the look of sourness from Lancelot and the triumphant grin that flashed across Gawain's face. _Rynelle,_ she mused to herself, _could be the start of something interesting in this plac_e.

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**A/N:** Ehehehe Kalyna had to put her own two bobs worth in there at the end :P So there you go my peeps! A slightly longer than normal chapter - which hopefully you all enjoyed :)


	7. Beginnings

**A/N:** Hello, hello my dearest's! Sorry it has been so long, but unfortunately, it seems I never get enough time to write and still life presses ever onwards. Oh no! 11 DAYS! :O *le gasp!* Oh well! Sorry this chapter's a little short, but I didn't want to cram things into it just for the sake of lengthening the chapter.

I am enormously flattered by the number of people who have favourited/followed/reviewed this fic so far. Thank you! Especially to **BarronsBaubles**, and **ILoveThee** - this one's for you! :)

Remember to Read, Review, Follow, Favourite and Most Importantly - ENJOY! :)

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VI.

It was several days after she had been brought to Caer-Legions that Rynelle tried to walk around any further than to the nearest chamber pot. The head healer, Vivianna, she supposed was nice, only prickly on the outside. The older woman had taken good care of her, and she felt better than she had in years, especially when the healer had ordered a warm bath be drawn up for her to wash and soak in.

Kalyna had come to see her many times, but maybe that was because she was apprenticed to Vivianna in the healing rooms and was there anyway. It did not matter in the least to Rynelle, as the two women were becoming fast friends.

When Vivianna was out, Kalyna would tell her stories about the knights (which surprisingly, often included places in which the men - who were supposed to be hardened warriors - either made some terrible mistake or were startled by some small occurrence or what not) and to her surprise, Rynelle found herself entranced, and more than eager to meet the rest of Arthur's court.

Doubt however, always niggled at the corner of her mind, whispering dark and seductive words to her that kept her wide awake during the night. What would they say if they knew? Rynelle did not dare to dwell on the thought.

• • •

"Right girl, you're as good as new." Vivianna barked from her table where she sat, cutting up herbs. "You can leave as soon as you wish to."

Rynelle, who had been up and ghosting around for some time smiled shyly back at the woman as she stood, waiting anxiously near the door, "I-I don't have anywhere to go ma-am." she said fretfully, twisting her hands in the front of her skirt, "What should I do?"

Vivianna stopped what she was doing and evaluated her with dark eyes, "What can you do?" she questioned, "What are you good at girl?"

"I...I..." Rynelle was lost for words, what was she good at? She did not even know herself.

"Can you cook?" Vivianna interrupted, her eyes narrowing when the younger girl shook her head "You wouldn't be able to serve - a little whippet like yourself. Can you heal?" another shake of the head prompted the head healer to roll her eyes and sigh emphatically. "Surely there must be something. Can you sew?"

Rynelle's eyes lighted up happily as she responded, "Yes ma'am." She replied, stepping forward, "I can sew."

"Well then, take yourself down to the shop a few blocks down the road," Vivianna grumbled, resuming the task of cutting up herbs, "Last I heard they were looking for someone to give them a hand."

Rynelle smiled at the healer as she made for the door, "Thankyou ma'am." she said softly, "I will not forget your kindness."

"Tosh girl. It's my job." Vivianna replied gruffly, but the young woman could have sworn she saw her mouth turn up at the corners, "Now get away with you before I put you to work!"

• • •

"I'm sorry girl, but there is no place for you here." the storekeeper said imperiously, staring coldly down her nose at Rynelle. "Whoever intimated as such to you was grievously misinformed."

Rynelle's mouth set itself in a hard line, as she inclined her head respectfully, "Very well then ma'am," she said, turning and gliding out of the store, "I apologise for my misinformation. Good day."

She had taken several paces away, before Rynelle realised she didn't have the foggiest idea where she was going. Not only was her sense of direction terrible and she did not know how exactly to return to the healing rooms, but she could not bring it upon herself to transgress on the kindness and generosity of Vivianna any longer. Rynelle knew she was feeling sorry for herself, but all she wanted to do in that moment was collapse in a heap and sob until the heaviness inside her was lifted.

"Rynelle!" a cheerful voice called out to her, and she looked around and smiled when she spotted Kalyna, basket in hand walking towards her. "How are you? You're looking much better, although, why were you down here in the merchants quarter?"

The younger woman sighed and gave her a sad smile, "I was looking for a job" she replied meekly, "Vivianna said there was a vacancy for some needlework at that store down there, but I was turned down."

Kalyna turned narrowed eyes on the store in question and sniffed in disdain, "Well they would turn you down wouldn't they, no-good upstarts!" she growled, "They don't like strangers, although quite frankly the owners are complete strangers to Camelot themselves! Only moved here within the last season!"

"Oh." Rynelle whispered, her face falling at the revelation - a move which did not go unnoticed by the brunette.

"If I may Rynelle, you shouldn't worry about those things. Something will come up," Kalyna said, patting her arm comfortable. Suddenly her eyes brightened, and her grip on the blonde's arm was tightened, "In fact," she said excitedly, "I might have just the thing for you! Guinevere was only saying recently that she needs some company and that there was a need for a helper in the mending rooms, I think you'd be just the ticket! King Arthur is not here, and will not be back for at least a week so I am sure she will be glad of the company!"

"Guinevere..." Rynelle said, rolling the familiar name around her mouth, she had heard it before. Her eyes widened in shock when she remembered where from, "Not Guinevere as in the QUEEN Guinevere!"

Kalyna mock glared at her like she was daft in the head, "No, your aunt Fanny...of course Queen Guinevere! She is the only woman I have ever heard to carry that name." she grinned, "Yes, I think she'd like you, I'll put it to her."

"Oh...well...I...she...you...thankyou." Rynelle gulped, blushing furiously at her own stammering, before looking up at the older woman shyly, "You would do that for me?"

"Of course I would silly," Kalyna said fondly, tweaking her nose with a grin, as she moved off "I would not have suggested it, had I not meant it! I must be off, but please, do come to the tavern tonight and I'll give you a place to stay if you do not wish to go back to the healing rooms."

The two women parted with smiles and waves as they made their own way through the lanes of Camelot. Rynelle proceeded to wander around for a while in rather a daze and before she realised it, was staring aimlessly down an alleyway. Somehow, the lane managed to capture a single line of sunlight, straight it's length. The thatched roofing blocked out the rest of the sun down the path, and she found the sight to be quite pretty, yet soulful at the same time. The single thin line of yellow, enshrouded by darkness.

"What are you doing?" a deep voice said from behind her, making Rynelle jump in sudden panic. The face she saw when she turned to see who had spoken added no comfort to her already frazzled nerves. It was Tristan, one of the knights who had found and rescued her. Unbidden, the memory of him deftly cutting open the rabbit came to her mind and Rynelle's eyes widened in fear. He looked as if he were about to eat her.

"Please don't eat me hawk-man!" she squeaked, suddenly terrified of this tall, dark scout. Realising what she had just blurted out, Rynelle covered her traitorous moth in horror.

His dark eyes stared piercingly into her own for a moment before they crinkled at the corners, and Tristan let out a bark of laughter. Rynelle was jolted from her discomfort by the shock of the sound. It was harsh and sounded all too unused, like the grating of stones, but it was laughter all the same. _He was laughing at her?_ Rynelle bristled a little at the thought.

Tristan shook his head, the braids swinging from side to side as his face settled into it's usual impassivity. The only sign of his rough laughter from before, was the twinkle of mirth that settled deep in the corners of his eyes.

Rynelle froze when the man reached up and pushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek. "Hawk-man..." Tristan rumbled, cocking his head to the side as if considering her with those dark, unfathomable eyes, "No, I think maybe I will not. After all, you look far to skinny to be tasty."

With that, the scout gave a half-bow and turned on his heel, apparently oblivious to the glare Rynelle threw after him. Suddenly, the feeling she got whenever she was being watched stole over her and the hairs on the back stood straight. Looking for the source, Rynelle turned to meet the penetrating and almost hostile gaze of the tawny-haired knight, standing on the road several meters away.

• • •

Gawain watched the interaction between the scout and blonde haired girl with a grimace. He nearly started out of his skin when the tall, dark man let out a bark of laughter. Tristan NEVER laughed.

Their conversation appeared to conclude and the scout seemed to decide it was time to take his leave. With a half-bow, he reached up and patted Rynelle on the cheek, making Gawain's blood run hot then cold in a startling manner that had him half wanting to chase after the other man and beat him to a pulp. Not that he could even win a fight against Tristan. Why was he even considering fighting the man anyway? What the hell was wrong with him? Gawain shook his head, his shaggy mane whipping through the still air as he tried to clear his head.

He decided he must just be tired from nights of too much drinking. _But still,_ Gawain thought to himself, his eyes narrowing,_ What could Tristan and Rynelle had been talking about? What had she said to make the man laugh? At least she hadn't laughed with him, that was some small consolation._Consolation? How a consolation? Consolation from what?

As Tristan walked away, the Gawain glared at the space where the other man had stood moments before. Almost as if sensing him, Rynelle's piercing green eyes turned to meet his sea blue ones, and she blushed, flickering her gaze downwards, giving him a small wave and half-smile as she hurried off.

The darker, unreasonable part of him called for him to hunt her down and ask her what she had been talking to the scout about; but his logical side told him it was absolutely none of his business. It WAS none of his business!

Gawain growled at his own mental quandary before stalking off to the tavern for a drink. That girl was going to be his undoing, he just knew it; and he'd be damned if he would let her get to him.

* * *

**A/N:** MUAAHAHHAHA the green-eyed monster hath lifted it's head! Let us see where this shall take us shall we? ;)

Oh, and has anyone heard the story of the Lion and the Mouse by Aesop - sometimes, I feel like the story is connecting with my characters (albeit not by my design...truthfully :P)


	8. Wandering

**A/N:** Howdy do folks! Thanks for all the lovely reviews for last chapter, and thanks especially to my new follower **golden-priestess**! This one's for you :)

I have decided its a chapter a week from now on, unless there are extenuating circumstances :)

Remember to Read, Review, Follow, Favourite and Most Importantly - ENJOY! :)

* * *

VII.

Summoning her courage, Rynelle walked confidently down the steadily darkening street. After seeing Gawain, his gaze following her every move, she had felt the need to escape the tingles that ran all over her from the touch of his eyes. She had walked amongst the market stalls and townhouses, admiring the hustle and bustle of life all around her. Rynelle enjoyed this newfound feeling of freedom so much that she did not realise how much time had passed until finally she noticed the lengthening shadows growing all around her. To make matters worse she had no idea which way she had come, or how to get back.

So, she gritted her teeth and continued walking. Rynelle did not know how long she had continued like that, and panic began to rise in her chest when she saw nothing even remotely recognisable. The dark was creeping up slowly behind her, and Rynelle increased her pace, almost as if to outrun it. In her haste, she turned a corner and ran headfirst into the broad chest of a man. Mortified, and more than a little nervous, Rynelle mumbled her apologies and tried to leave, but before she could move, a hand reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her.

The only thing that stopped her scream was the voice that came from the man she had run into, gentle, yet smooth as cream, "This is not the time of night one would expect a young lady such as yourself to be wandering the streets." the man said, stepping into the light so she could make him out properly. He was tall, with a neatly trimmed beard and unruly curls that tumbled over his forehead in waves. His eyes were like dark jewels that glittered in the light and only added to his overall attractiveness. Only one glance and Rynelle knew who this man was.

"Please Milady, allow me to escort you to wherever you may have need." Lancelot said, bowing charmingly to her and holding out his arm for her to take. Rynelle barely needed time to think before she accepted.

"Thankyou Sir Lancelot." she said, smiling shyly as she took the offered arm, "I would be most grateful."

Lancelot's brows raised so high that they almost disappeared into his curls, "So, you know my name. I feel you have an unfair advantage over me." he said with a wink, drawing a blush from Rynelle's cheeks. By gods he was charming! Just as Kalyna had said he would be. "Sweet maid, pray tell me yours so that I might know whom I am escorting."

"I am called Rynelle." she said bashfully. The man really was too handsome for his own good.

Their progress halted as Lancelot considered her, "Rynelle," he mused, as if considering her name, and his eyes lit up when they found the answer, "A truly unusually beautiful name for an unusually beautiful woman. You would not perhaps be THE Rynelle brought back by Gawain and Tristan from Caer-Sallog?"

_They had spoken of her while she was recovering?_ Rynelle was sure that by the time she told her where she wished to go and they reached their destination, the knight would think her unable to keep a halt on her emotions, for without fail, her cheeks turned bright red once more, "Yes I am." she mumbled, her eyes downcast, "I was on my way to meet Kalyna in the tavern, but got hopelessly lost. Direction is not my strong suit."

Lancelot laughed and kissed her knuckles, looking up at her with those dark, twinkling eyes and making her curse her own bashfulness, "It is a pleasure to meet you my Lady, I would have rather that we met sooner but I have been banished from visiting the healing rooms unless loosing a great deal of blood." he said with a playful smirk, turning and beginning their course once more. "To the tavern it is then."

It seemed that the knight was content to walk in quiet, although on occasion he would ask her questions of small-talk, how she liked Camelot and such. All the while, a tiny smirk fixed itself to the corner of his mouth, as if he knew she studied him. Lancelot reminded her of a panther, a great black cat which her mother had once told her was sacred to the god Bacchus. Everything about him suggested intelligence; beautiful, powerful and deadly. She presumed many women had fallen to the charms of those black eyes, long fingers and honey tongue that dripped sweet words with every sentence.

After walking for some time, they came to a large door, the sounds of the courtyard beyond indicated the merriment that lay within. Obligingly, Lancelot stepped forward and pushed the door open, indicating for her to step inside, "After you Lady." he said, smiling as she stepped through and closing the door behind them as they made their way through the crowds.

"Rynelle!" a voice called and the blonde girl noticed Kalyna stand up and wave her over, "I was beginning to worry. I thought you had gotten lost!"

"Nothing to worry about Kalyna," Lancelot spoke up behind her with a snicker "I knew just what do do with her when I found her."

"So this is th' stray?" Bors asked jovially, as Lancelot walked a rather flustered Rynelle into the tavern. Her cheeks turning bright red at the words. "Who would've known, Gawain, that you an' Tristan had such talen' pickin' up th' pretty ones?!"

Bors' laughter was abruptly cut of by a small red-headed woman who cuffed him over the back of his head and scolded him for his rudeness. As Rynelle's eyes searched the table, she met those of Gawain's and suddenly, as always seemed the case whenever in his presence, she felt herself grow smaller and sink into insignificance. His blue eyes studied her and the knight that had brought her to the tavern with distaste, before turning back to his meal without a word. In that moment, for some strange reason her heart wrenched in her chest and she wished for nothing more than to fade into bustle of the tavern and disappear.

But that was not to be. Lancelot led her straight to the table where the others were sitting and made a place for her between himself and Kalyna. Net to Kalyna was another curly haired knight who smiled whenever he looked at the older woman, and Rynelle presumed him to be Galahad, the man Kalyna was in love with. Tristan sat at the edge of the table opposite Bors and his woman, leaving her facing Gawain, who completely ignored her and stabbed at his food.

His reaction to her left Rynelle completely confused, she had no idea of what she had done to deserve his coldness. He had seemed so light and humorous when he had brought her to Camelot. She would almost rather have him call her 'little mouse' again rather than face the cold silence. Unsure of what to do, Rynelle looked around the table and caught Kalyna's eye, who was staring at her with a knowing smirk.

"You're rather quiet tonight Gawain" Lancelot spoke up as a buxom bar maid passed and handed over several mugs of ale. "You are normally raring drunk at this hour." The tawny haired man muttered something under his breath which only incited Lancelot further. "I cannot hear you Gawain, speak up! Not pining for your beautiful Sarmatian woman are you?"  
Gawain looked up and glared at the other man, "I simply have no desire to talk to you tonight Lancelot." he growled. Rynelle took one sip of the drink that had been placed in front of her, interested in the turn in conversation, and gagged, spitting the ale all over the table in front of her. As she choked and spluttered, Lancelot pounded her on the back, laughing hysterically.

Rynelle pushed herself up and off the table trying to breath, and suddenly out of nowhere, Gawain was beside her. The knight looked down at her in concern, his blue eyes worried, "Are you alright?" he asked softly, and she gave him a watery grin in reply to allay his concern.

"I'm fine." she coughed, wrinkling her nose at the mess on the table, "I am sorry for ruining your dinner. What is that horrible stuff?"

"Looks like our Rynelle can't hold her drink Gawain!" Lancelot laughed, a teasing glint in his eye as the barmaid grumpily wiped the table down with a cloth. The tawny haired knight simply glowered at the first knight as Rynelle turned red with embarrassment. Still glaring Lancelot down, Gawain took her arm, and lead Rynelle around the table to where he was sitting. Shoving Galahad closer to his own woman, he sat her down and settled himself beside her.

"Sit with me little mouse," Gawain whispered in her ear with a smile as he brushed past her, "Lancelot will not give you any trouble here, not while his gaze is distracted by what the barmaid has to offer. I will look after you instead."

Rynelle smiled shyly back at him, thankful that the joking knight had replaced the serious one. "Oh, do not trouble yourself," she replied, unable to hold those kind blue eyes for long, her gaze flickered down, "Lancelot does not worry me, and I can care for myself."

Golden eyebrow shot upwards and a smile quirked the corner of Gawain's mouth as the attention of the rest of the table turned elsewhere. "Oh really, little mouse? How so? You do not look fierce to me." he teased, eyes twinkling with mirth, "What do you do? Talk your victims to death?"

Rynelle glared at him in reply, and Gawain clutched his heart, as if shot by an arrow, "No I see!" he exclaimed, before leaning closer and whispering in her ear, the warmth of his breath on her skin making her shiver, "You simply glare at them and they fall down dead."

"You have uncovered me sir knight." Rynelle said, her face serious, but eyes laughing as she regarded the man beside her. A wicked grin split Gawain's face, but before any comment could be made, the pair were interrupted by Bors who stood from the table, his harassed red-haired woman standing several paces away and tapping her feet impatiently.

The shaven knight drained his mug and followed his woman out the door, much to the caterwauls and jibes of the remaining knights. But Kalyna just shook her head and rolled her eyes at Rynelle. "I fear Bors and Vanora have the right idea tonight," she said, grimacing at the men now either side of her. "My bed calls to me."

"That is only because Galahad is there to warm it." Gawain smirked, causing Lancelot to snort in amusement. The knight in question just smiled cockily, leaned back and slung his arm over Kalyna's shoulder.

"When you're ready to experience real warmth woman, let me know and I''ll show you." Lancelot snickered, winking at the brunette to purposely get a rise from her man. His ploy worked, Galahad's eyes narrowing at the implication of his words.

"Hands off Lancelot," The younger knight growled, dropping his arm about Kalyna's waist and pulling her closer possessively, "Go find your own."

Lancelot raised his eyebrows, and slid further down the seat away from the couple, his hands raised in defeat, "As you wish!" he smiled wolfishly, turning to look at the three others sitting across from him, "Tristan...no I would not go there...Gawain, you and I both already know that your beautiful Sarmatian woman is a figment of your imagination...but Rynelle," he purred, dark eyes narrowing to heavy-lidded slits, "fair maiden! You are all too real! Your golden tresses! Those enchanting green eyes! Your..."

"Lancelot, enough." Tristan said quietly, but all at the table froze as he spoke, "She is not yours to seduce."

The silence that had shrouded the table was broken when Galahad coughed, "Yes, I agree with Kalyna," he said, the pair standing together, "On patrol remember tomorrow. Gawain?"

The tawny haired knight nodded and frowned at his mug of ale. Kalyna smiled at Rynelle, "Would you like us to take you back to the healing rooms, or would you like me to make a place for you with us?".

Rynelle's eyes widened, "Oh no, that is lovely thankyou but Vivianna said I should stay with her until I find a place of my own." she replied, clambering to her feet, "But I would be grateful if you could show me the way to the healing rooms."

Kalyna nodded, "Anyone else?" she asked, her eye's flickering around the table.

"No I think i will stay for a while," Lancelot said, moving away from the others with a wink and sauntering to a group of men hovering around a table, "test my luck with the dice tables."

"I will stay also." Tristan spoke up from the shadows.

Gawain stared deep into his mug for a moment before lifting it to his lips and draining the last of the ale, standing also. "I will come." he said, smiling slightly, "I cannot let you three out of my sight."

• • •

"She is a very lovely girl don't you think Gawain?" Kalyna said slyly, as the three Sarmatians made their way back from the healing rooms to their quarters.

Gawain shrugged, keeping any emotion rising to the surface, "Lancelot seems quite taken with her."

"He's not the only one," the woman replied cheekily as she eyed her lover's best friend. "You seemed to be quite friendly with her."

Galahad snorted, "If you are suggesting my love, that Gawain here has fallen in love with our young friend you would be mistaken," he smirked as he glanced at his friend, "It has already been established, long ago, that Gawain would return home to marry some beautiful Sarmatian woman and Lancelot would give her all his children."

"Why would that not surprise me." Kalyna muttered to herself as the three separated, her and Galahad going to their room and Gawain to his. It did not escape her notice however, that the tawny haired knight was quiet. Quite interesting indeed.

* * *

**A/N:** Bacchus is the Roman version of the Greek Dionysus - God of wine, sensuousness, ritual madness and ecstasy. (I mean hey guys, doesn't that sound even a little like Lancelot? :P) This will most probably be reconnected later in the story (unless I forget), for although Rome had become a Christian state, the old gods and goddesses were still worshiped by some, the faithful were never completely 'wiped out' until the fall of Rome itself. Then again, were they wiped out, even after that? Nothing ever truly disappears, it's just recycled back into the human subconscious of future generations (its called the collective psyche - quite an interesting concept indeed!).


	9. Conversations

**A/N:** Hey there guys - posting early because sadly, I have to hand in my computer to the tech guy tomorrow and won't be getting it back till at least Thursday :S GAH! Oh well...

Thanks to all of you that reviewed last chapter, you know who you are! Your support means a lot to me :)

Remember to Read, Review, Follow, Favourite and Most Importantly - ENJOY! :)

* * *

VIII.

Rynelle was standing nervously waiting for the queen to emerge into the great hall. To say she was nervous was an understatement, and she was beginning to question whether Kalyna was in fact mad for agreeing to do this. Taking a deep breath, and trying to pass the time without fidgeting, she looked about the room. The circular table she had heard tales of, was indeed there, intricately carved and stunning. The idea of the table that was round so that none sat at the head and all were equal was something which made Rynelle's head swim. It was too wonderful to be true, and for some unconscious reason, she began to wonder what her cousin would think of sitting at a round table. Rynelle shook the thought from her head fiercely, she would never think of him again if she could help it.

Quietly, Kalyna nudged her in the ribs, and nodded her head towards the woman coming towards them in a lovely brown dress, her brown hair folded neatly in a knot at the back of her head. Rynelle took one look at the woman's kind brown eyes and delicate features and guessed at once who she was.

"Your highness." Kalyna said respectfully, bowing her head and giving some unusual kind of salute. "This is Rynelle, the girl I spoke to you about. She's looking for work."

A little flustered at what was expected of her, Rynelle blushed furiously, before deciding on a curtsey, "Good morning, my queen." she said, a little hoarsely. Suddenly worried she did not address the woman in front of her correctly, Rynelle panicked "I mean, your majesty, no. Your highness -"

She was cut off by Guinevere's laughter at the bumbles and Rynelle deflated a little at the thought that they had not even begun their interview and the queen was already laughing at her.

"Please, Rynelle, I am not some tyrant queen who places emphasis on her title. To my friends, and my companions in private, I am Guinevere." she said kindly, her brown eyes dancing, "That is what you must call me when you are with me as my companion and confidante."

At first, Rynelle did not know what to say, and her mouth opened and closed, like that of a fish. When she realised she was acting like a complete fool, she closed it, and hardened her nerves. "Thankyou mil-...Guinevere. But should I not show you my skills so as to determine whether or not I am fit for your service?" Rynelle said a little concerned, "I would not wish for you to hire me and find me wanting."

The Queen gave a laugh that sounded like the tinkering of little bells, and she and Kalyna shared a look before her attention turned once more to the younger woman in front of them. "It is for that very reason that I have already decided that I like you, and will hire you." she smiled, "Kalyna has already told me much about you, but if you feel a demonstration is necessary then, by all means, I will not stop you."

Rynelle blushed and smiled, "Thankyou mil-...Guinevere." awkwardly, she cleared her throat, "May I ask what tasks I would undertake as your companion?"

Guinevere waved a hand, "Quite simple really," she said, motion for the other two women to sit down with her at the table, which they complied with, "You will be with me most of the time, as a companion, someone to share my experiences with. The activities you will undertake include riding, archery - as well as other weapons training, accompanying me on diplomatic missions, and of course sewing and embroidery - something Kalyna tells me you are quite skilled at."

"I am very sorry Guinevere, but I do not know if I am qualified or skilled enough to be your companion." Rynelle said truthfully, her hopes failing, "I can do none of those things, I am only able to sew - that is where my abilities lie. nowhere else."

Guinevere sniffed imperiously, and Rynelle glared at Kalyna who only just managed to hold back a giggle, "Quite frankly Rynelle, I would not care if you did not know how to do any of those things." she said kindly, "I admit it, my reasons for hiring you are completely selfish, I only want a friend, whom I can talk to and rely on at all times. Kalyna is already too busy, I could not impress another such job on her. Anything you do not know, you can always learn, or if you do not wish to, you could simply watch, and do some mending or something while I train."

The tears that had gathered in Rynelle's eyes threatened to overflow at the Queens kindness. "You...you would really do that?" she asked, choking a little.

Guinevere smiled at the younger woman, her eyes soft, "Yes. I would." she said gently, taking her hand. "Will you accept?"

• • •

Rynelle moved about the small room happily, it was not much, only a small bed and chest, but it was more than enough. She had accepted without a second thought, and she couldn't be happier with the choice she had made. As her first task, she was to join Guinevere for dinner, and since King Arthur had not returned, she would be sitting next to the Queen.

One thing still bothered Rynelle, the guilt that she had not told the older woman about her family, Gower, plagued her mind, but she pushed those thoughts aside as a sharp knock sounded at the door.

Rynelle opened it to find a man she had never seen before standing there, he had brown, curly hair and he was much older than her, in his fortieth year - or close to it - she predicted, and his brown eyes were kind as he spoke to her. "You must be Rynelle - Queen Guinevere's new companion. I am Jols, at your service milady," he smiled kindly at her, bowing slightly, "King Arthur's manservant. The King has just arrived back at Caer-legions and the Queen has asked me to inform you that tonight at dinner, you would not have to sit with her."

"Oh." Rynelle said, her face a little crestfallen at the news. She had been looking forward to having dinner with the Queen and knights that evening, even more-so to have a chance to speak to Gawain once more. He had seemed much happier at the conclusion of the night before, and as they had walked back to the healing rooms with Galahad and Kalyna, she had felt safe next to the heat his large body was emitting as they walked side by side.

Jols smiled at her, "Don't worry girly," he said with a laugh, "You'll still be coming to dinner, so you'd best get a wriggle on. I'm supposed to escort you in."

Rynelle's face lit up immediately as he spoke, but turned to confusion, "Where am I to sit then?" she asked curiously.

"Wherever you do so please." the man replied with a chuckle, holding his arm out for her to take, which she did without hesitation.

• • •

"I do still wish you had waited until my return to hire a companion." Arthur said, a little disgruntled to his wife. His eyes flickered over to the place on the table where the woman in question sat quietly, paying careful attention to something Kalyna was saying. Her green eyes pressed into a thoughtful frown. "We do not know anything about her. You do realise Gawain and Tristan picked her up in the middle of nowhere don't you? She could be a spy or some other device to be planted in this court."

Guinevere raised a single eyebrow at her husband, "If I recall I was as you say 'picked up in the middle of nowhere' and I could have quite easily been a spy as well." she said sharply "However, you found it in your heart to rescue me, just as Rynelle was rescued. Do not doubt her simply because we do not know much about her."

Arthur shifted in his seat, the other knights and two women oblivious to the King and Queens heated discussion, "There is something about her that still makes me uneasy about her Guinevere." he said with a frown, his hand reaching out and taking hers, giving it a gentle squeeze as he smiled at the woman he loved, "But let us not discuss this now, I have just arrived home and I could not be gladder to see you."

• • •

'At first I did not like Lancelot at all' Kalyna said to the younger woman, Galahad and Gawain snickering at her comment on her other side 'we did not get along at all when we met.'

'Really?' Rynelle said wide-eyed, they seemed to her like such good compatriots now, always jesting and laughing.

'Yes, I defied him, and then he told me off. I defied him again, and then he told me off again; and now we are firm friends.' Kalyna smirked as she looked over to the man on Rynelle's other side. Grinning widely, the older woman continued, loud enough for the rest of the knights to hear 'However, did I tell you about the time I beat Lancelot in a hand to hand combat exercise? He was so sure of his victory! Than was until he landed on his...'

'Come now Kalyna, I am most sure Lady Rynelle wishes to hear of more, stimulating, conversation rather than of that particular experience.' Lancelot said smoothly, pulling the blonde haired woman closer to him, and cutting her off as the other men laughed. Rynelle almost expected him to be mad, but a faint twitch at the corners of his mouth gave away his lightness of heart.

When she turned to smile at Kalyna, it was then that she noticed that the look on Gawain's face was positively murderous, and with a start she realised Lancelot still had his arm about her waist, and she was very nearly pressed up against his body. Awkwardly, she shuffled back a little closer to the older woman, suddenly uncomfortable at being close to the dark-eyed knight.

"Kalyna, are you ready for the Queens birthday celebration next week?" Lancelot asked, not missing a beat, "Will you be helping Vanora in the kitchens or Vivianna in the healing rooms?"

The brunette woman sighed heavily before replying, "Both it seems," she said, wrinkling her nose, and Galahad moved his arm to settle around her waist, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, "I'll be run off my feet in no time."

"Why?" Rynelle asked suddenly, curious about what this 'party' was to be like. The only time she had ever even been to a festival was as a very young child and she could remember not much of it except the colour and laughter.

The others at the table were looking at her incredulously. "Ye'v never been ta' a festival?" Bors asked, his mouth hanging open in horror, undoubtedly shaken.

Rynelle shook her head in response, and Kalyna's eyes narrowed as she assessed the younger woman. The honesty in her gaze told her that she was not lying, but if she was not, there was something very wrong.

"I'll tell you why," Gawain spoke up with a smirk on Galahad's other side, raising his goblet in a silent toast, "'Cause everyone manages to get drunk on food and ale - as there is always a copious amount of both of those things, and because many find that good food and drink leads to a number of fights, which will all need to be tended to by the healers. That's why."

Rynelle's face was serious as she considered the tawny-haired knights words. "I see." she said with a frown. "It does not sound to be very enjoyable."

"Oh it is," Lancelot said quickly, taking Rynelle's hand and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles "There is dancing and games, and more enjoyable activities than you can possibly imagine my Lady."

Rynelle blushed at the knights insinuation and gently pried her hand out of his grasp, "Even still Sir knight, it does not sound like something which I would enjoy." she said.

Kalyna laughed, and gave her friend a gentle nudge on the shoulder. "Oh it will be I assure you Rynelle. It will be."

* * *

**A/N:** Walah! Hope thou didst enjoy - and the next chapter will hopefully be ready for next week! Decided to put a little bit of Arthur/Guinevere time in there because in the fics I've read they don't seem to get a lot of focus. Every couple quarrels and disagrees and I really wanted to show that here, as well as the fact that Arthur doesn't necessarily always trust every single person straight off ;) I'm on a roll at the moment! Happy reading and remember to review if you have time :)


	10. Unwanted Memories

**A/N:** Hola everyone! Signed out for the last time, I'm no longer a highschool student (not sure whether that's good or bad just yet!) and got my laptop back today...sadly I'm going to have to do sooooo many updates on it -it's just not funny - the tech people had to wipe it completely, and now, I have an older version of pages, and it won't open my current documents so I have to type it all here first rather than copy-and-paste...gah! (It doesn't help at all that I'm technologically devoid...)

Anyways! Big thanks to** wisdom1307** for following, and **ErikaLynne** and **girllyingbythesea901** for favouriting (not to mention all you lovely people that reviewed!)

Just a warning, it gets a little dark at the end of this chapter...sorry, but I didn't sugar-coat it! Although we like to romanticise King Arthur and his knights, and the world they lived in...it wasn't all sunshine lollipops and rainbows...

Remember to Read, Review, Follow, Favourite and Most Importantly - ENJOY! :)

* * *

The arrow embedded itself in the center of the target with a satisfying think, making Rynelle smile to herself. THe next day would be the Queens birthday, and yet the woman in question was standing in the middle of the training field, practicing her archery skills.

Rynelle shook her head, utterly bemused. Guinevere was not the sort of woman a Roman man was expected to marry. She was adept at archery, did not obey direct orders unless she agreed with then, and was not afraid to speak her mind and voice her opinions. Although, when Rynelle thought about it, Arthur and his knights had not been the typical Roman battalion either, and Arthur was certainly not a Roman king. He had shown his true allegiance lay with Britton and it's people.

Rynelle's mind was jerked from her thoughts by a sharp pain in her finger, and she fought the urge to swear, holding her now bleeding finger away from the shirt she was mending in order to prevent it from being covered in blood stains. When she had met the King at dinner that night, almost a week ago, he had looked at her with an expression that made her severely uncomfortable.

Every time they encountered one another, it was almost as if his piercing grey-blue eyes penetrated her soul and lay bare all the hurts and memories she had no wish to resurrect. As such, she tried to avoid contact with the man as much as possible, preferring instead to spend her time in the company of his knights.

Rynelle unintentionally let out a wistful sigh as she finished repairing the undershirt in her hands. It was Gawain's and the infernal man had managed to re-tear every single one of the shirts she had fixed in the last week. He was impossible, and yet she found herself smiling at his sheepish expression every time he brought something to her to be repaired. His warm, hard hands gently bestowing the worn cloth in her own; brushing ver her skin with the lightest of touches as he left and returned to some other duty. Rynelle couldn't help wander what those hands would feel like-

"I hope I am not interrupting something important my Lady" the smooth-as-cream voice that could only belong to Lancelot spoke up from behind Rynelle, startling her from her daydreams with a blush, "My, my, that colour does suit you Rynelle, the red of your cheeks matches the green of your eyes. Do tell what it was that you were thinking about!"

Lancelot's black eyes sparkled with mischief as they regarded her and Rynelle simply glared at him in return "Sir knight, you really must be more careful" she replied archly, ignoring his request, "I could have stabbed you in the eye with my needle!" she raised her eyebrow cockily and held up her hand, the needle between thumb and finger.

Lancelot simply laughed at her statement, folding his hand over hers and the needle, "Really Rynelle," he smiled, "What sort of knight would I be if I could not stop you poking me in the eye with a needle?" and with that he brought her hand with the needle in it to his lips, kissing her wrist gently, wicked eyes watching the expression on her face morph into shocked embarrassment.

• • •

Gawain watched the interaction between the woman and man, a scowl marring his features. The other Sarmatians (Kalyna included) had made their way down to the training ground for their midday exercise. Galahad and Tristan had just returned from patrol and the younger knight had decided he was officially 'hawked-out' and needed some time alone with his woman. What had occurred instead was Kalyna dragging a grumbling Galahad down to the training yards so that he would not miss out on much needed practice.

Unable to find Lancelot; Gawain, Galahad and Kalyna had met up with Tristan and Bors, before heading down to the armoury. What they had found however, upon entering the field was not expected. Guinevere, shooting targets and Rynelle and Lancelot seemingly deep in discussion.

When the dark haired knight reached down and kissed the inside of her wrist, Gawain's blood ran cold. Only a lover would dare kiss a woman there, so intimate a place. The tiny voice of reason inside his head told him it was none of his business, he had not made a claim, but the other side of him insisted he go over there and shove Lancelot's face in the dirt.

He had experienced a similar sentiment regarding Tristan, and he caught the man in question studying him quietly from behind his tangled hair. _You do realise you are starting to fall for this girl do you not?_ the voice inside his head sneered, _You are intoxicated and she is oblivious. Well done_. With a frustrated growl, Gawain stalked back into the armoury, wrenching out his axes and sword before stomping out to the others, already waiting patiently in the center of the field.

Gawain gave Lancelot one withering glance and Rynelle a glare in greeting before turning and finding himself under the scruitinising gaze of Kalyna; who's cocked eyebrow and all-knowing expression was beginning to make him severely uncomfortable.

Thankfully, the young woman turned her attention to Rynelle, still sitting on her stool sewing, albeit with a dark crimson blush covering her cheeks. "Rynelle, why do you sit there sewing? Join us!" Kalyna said to the younger woman beguilingly.

"I have already suggested her participation Kalyna, but is seems she does not to." Guinivere said with a smile, walking over.

Rynelle looked horrified, probably at the thought of ignoring the Queen of Britton, Gawain mused, "No my Queen, it is only I cannot," the blonde girl said, mortified, "I do not know how."

"That can be easily remedied dear," Kalyna replied with a wink, before turning to the others "Knights! I need a volunteer!"

Galahad smiled, and stepped closer to his lover "I volunteer." he said so sweetly, it caused Bors to mime gagging motions.

"Enough Galahad!" he grimaced, "Yer givin me a toof-ache"

The younger man glared at his fellow knight before Kalyna smiled, patting his arm comfortingly "No not you Galahad, I need..." Whatever Kalyna had been about to say was cut off as she was interrupted by another dark voice.

"I'll do it Kalyna. You can use me as your...swain, if you don't need Galahad." Lancelot said, smooth as silk as he slipped closer to the fiery brunette woman, like a cat who'd just spied the cream.

The look Galahad gave the curly-haired man was positively murderous and would have resulted in a rather messy blood-letting had Kalyna not stepped in. "No, no." she said, shoving Lancelot back the way he had come, and casting her eyes over the rest of the men, in search of another. When she found the man she was looking for, her eyes narrowed with a wicked gleam, "Gawain. Would you help me?"

The knight in question looked up, startled, from the tip of his axe, which he had made the pretense of studying for chips for the last five minutes. "Wha- If you wish Kalyna." Gawain replied, shifting his body around the group so that his form towered over the young blonde woman, whom he ignored. "What is it you want me to do?"

"I need you to help me demonstrate something to Rynelle, and then she can test it herself on you." Gawain stiffened when she spoke, but either Kalyna was oblivious to his discomfort or she chose to ignore it. "Would you assist me?"

Gawain inclined his head slightly in reply, "As you wish." He said, glowering at the faint smirk he saw appear at the corners of Tristan's mouth before the scout turned and joined the Queen at her archery.

"See, you do it like this...and this..." Kalyna said, demonstrating several moves by which a smaller, lighter opponent could gain the upper hand on an older, heavier man. "Now you try." She smiled encouragingly, moving away and motioning for Rynelle to take her place.

The younger woman did so nervously, the rest of the knights leaning against the fence posts enjoying the show. Even Guinevere and Tristan had stopped their training to watch. The men hid their shouts of laughter behind wicked grins as Rynelle tried and failed to make Gawain release his hold on her.

When his hands moved away for the third time to give her a moments respite, Rynelle took a deep breath, but out of nowhere, two, strong, hard arms snuck around her waist and crushed her against his chest.

Suddenly, it was no longer Gawain holding her around her neck and waist, but Gower. His long fingers digging painfully into her skin as he tried to tear the clothes from her body. With a panicked scream, Rynelle reacted, thrashing in his grip and reaching around behind herself to scratch at the face of the man she loathed with every fibre of her being.

With a cry of pain, he let her go and Rynelle fell to the ground, breathing heavily. Quickly, she scrambled away, out of his reach, and it was only when she was safely a meter away that she turned to see if he followed. To her mortification, it was not Gower standing there, but Gawain, a hand to his neck, trying to cover the fingernail marks that had left deep indents in his skin.

With a wail of despair and shame, Rynelle stood and ran as fast as she could, away from the man she had hurt and the people who stared at the in uncomprehending horror. Kalyna and Guinevere both called for her to stop, but she paid no heed, just kept running until she was safely back in her room, before collapsing with a sob, onto her bed.

• • •

Gawain stared after Rynelle's retreating figure in shock, one hand pressed to the new wounds that stung painfully on his neck.

"What was that all about?" Galahad asked, confusion and shock mingling on his face as he turned to his friend, "What happened Gawain?"

Gawain shook his head slowly, "I do not know," he said with a frown, wincing slightly, "She just froze and then went mad. When she looked at me it was as if her eyes could not see me, but another."

Kalyna pursed her lips in a silent thought, before catching Guinevere's gaze and giving an almost imperceptible nod "Gawain, you should be off to Vivianna to ensure those scratched do not become infected." she sighed, moving with Guinevere away from the others "Galahad, perhaps you should go with him. I do not know if the rest of you wish to continue to train but the Queen and myself shall return at a later time."

• • •

Guinevere and Kalyna found Rynelle several hours later, curled up in a ball on her bed, sobbing hysterically. She refused to look at the older women, even when they tried to comfort her. The quilt plaguing her would not relent.

"It is alright Rynelle," Guinivere said soothingly, stroking the young girl's hair until she calmed a little "Gawain is not mad at you, and neither are any of the others."

"Something happened to you did it not? A man hurt you." Rynelle looked up, startled at the comment and Kalyna smiled ruefully back at her, "I have seen it many times Rynelle, sadly, it is all too common. If I am right, you did not even see Gawain when you scratched him, you saw the other man, did you not?"

Rynelle nodded hesitantly, fresh tears cascading down her cheeks "It was before I came here," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut, "and it had been happening for a long, long time." her eyes were closed as she continued to sob and she did not see the dark look that passed between the older women.

"Did he get you with child?" Guinevere asked, her face severe but her voice gentle.

Rynelle's eyes snapped open horrified as she shook her head vehemently. "No, I could not," she said hoarsely, "The healers said I was too small and thin, so I did not begin to bleed at the same time as the other girls. That is probably why he kept me for so long. When I started, I knew I had to escape somehow, so I ran. I had a feeling that he would dispose of me if he found out."

Kalyna frowned at her in concern. "Gawain and Tristan found with some men who said you were Lord Gowers. Was it him?"

Rynelle nodded tearfully, and Kalyna's face hardened immediately, "Is he also the one who gave you those injuries when you first came here?"

Rynelle nodded again, "He seemed to find enjoyment in others pain." she spat bitterly.

Guinevere's face twisted in a savage snarl and she stared at the other brunette woman, her eyes positively dangerous "Bastard." she whispered, her grip tightening around the younger blonde haired woman.

"Please, do not tell anyone what I have told to you today." Rynelle said, her red and puffy eyes going wide as she envisioned the reactions of the knights if they found out how...tainted she was. Their looks of disgust. "Please swear it!"

"They would not judge you." Kalyna said gently, her hazel eyes soft.

Rynelle shook her head emphatically, "That may be so, but I still do not wish them to know." she replied quietly.

"You have my word." Guinevere smiled, taking the younger woman's hand in her own. "I will not tell a soul the secret you have entrusted to me."

Kalyna was still frowning, but she nodded her head, "And I Rynelle," she agreed softly, "I also will keep your secret."

"Thankyou both," Rynelle whispered gratefully, "I have not had anyone whom I could rely on for a very long time. Thankyou."

Kalyna smiled in reply and sat down on her other side, looking over at Guinevere as she spoke, "That is what friends are for."

* * *

**A/N:** Ahem...yes I fully realise I am completely horrible, but those circumstances such as Rynelle's were and are far more commonplace than we would like to admit. Although, I realise this is fanfiction, and not meant to be a social commentary, but PLEASE, if you are ever in a situation like that, or know someone who has been, TALK to someone and make it stop.

On a lighter note, next chapter will be a little fluffy...thou hath been warned! ;)


	11. Expectant News

**A/N:** Hi guys! Sorry for the slightly later and shorter update, but this week has been SO hectic it's just NOT funny. Not to mention, I actually had a bit of writers block for this chapter - actually lets just call it lethargy...I knew what to write I just couldn't be bothered actually exercising these fingertips on the keyboards! (what makes it worse is that I actually already had a third written!) :P

This chapter's for **In-Love-With-Paul-Get-Over-It**, **Queen Amy**, **melala103** for following and** Aeglos3** for favouriting. Not to mention **cleo nightingale** and all my other friendly reviewers! Thank you so much! You are the ones who keep me writing! :)

Remember to Read, Review, Follow, Favourite and Most Importantly - ENJOY! :)

p.s. the music I imagined to accompany this festival is something called 'Beltane Fire Dance' by a very talented music/songwriter Loreena McKennitt. Check it out if you have time! It really makes you think of that sort of ancient festivity! :)

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X.

Rynelle fixed the last lantern in place with a satisfied sigh. Wobbling a little, she climbed down from the bench where she stood and admired her handiwork, hands on hips. The sun was setting in the sky and Queen Guinevere's birthday celebration was set to begin. Several hours before, Kalyna had been sent to Vivianna when she had emptied the contents of her stomach for the third time.

Rynelle's concern for the older, brunette Sarmatian woman peaked and she sternly ordered her out to the healer, informing her that she was perfectly capable of fixing and hanging the rest of the decorations without her help. There was MORE than enough people working on it already.

Her job done, Rynelle turned and looked for something else to occupy her time with. The crest of a tawny head caught her eye, and all the breath rushed from her body. She had not spoked to Gawain since the evening before, and she still cursed her own inability to forget the life she had had before coming to Camelot.

Taking a deep breath and steeling herself for the task ahead, Rynelle tentatively walked over to where the man was leaning against the bar, drink in hand. He had not seen her and so she cleared her throat anxiously, trying to get his attention.

The marks she could see on his neck filled her with an immense guilt that threatened to overflow. Blue eyes turned to meet green and Rynelle suddenly looked down, unable to look the knight in the eye.

"Good evening Sir knight," Rynelle whispered awkwardly, shuffling in her stance. Suddenly she looked up at his kind expression and the apology she had mean to say flew from her mind, words hurtling forth in uncalculating sentences. "I - Oh Gawain I am so sorry, please can you ever forgive me? I had no intention of hurting you and I am so sorry!"

Gawain stared intently at her for a moment before he took her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to it, causing her to blush crimson. His lips quirked to the side. "Do not worry little mouse, you could not hurt me." he smiled, a teasing glint in his eye. "A terrible knight I would be if a mere scratch was enough to fell me. as I recall, for all Kalyna's teaching you were unable to move me any other way either so I have nothing to fear from you, and you have no need to apologise."

Rynelle wondered if Gawain realised just how much he sounded like Lancelot in that moment. She glared at the man in reply, refusing to laugh at the idea that she was lacking in something, "I will improve Sir knight," she sniffed primly, giving him a pointed look "And then we shall see you fear me and my skills."

Gawain's eyes twinkled as he let out a burst of laughter, "I am certain that shall be the case Rynelle," he replied, giving her a wink, "and I look forward to our next round." This man had the uncanny ability to make her blush almost every time he spoke. It was unsettling.

Gawain's face turned serious, and his eyes flickered around them, as if her were checking they were being watched, before shifting closer, "Something happened to you did it not, before Tristan and I found you." he said quietly, eyes intent. Rynelle did not reply, continuing to stare down at her feet, and he nodded once, her silence confirming his suspicions. "You will not tell me what it is?" A shake of her head. "Very well, but should you need...assistance or protection of any kind. I am at your service. You only need ask Rynelle."

Rynelle felt as if she were in a dream as Gawain's hand came up and brushed away a single lock of blonde hair behind her ear. He couldn't be moving closer to her could he? "You should never have to be afraid." came the whisper, light as a breeze brushing against her ear as he pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, the tips of his beard pleasantly scratching at her skin. And then he was gone, walking off into the darkening night, and leaving her with a tingling feeling that pushed into every nerve in her body.

• • •

It was much later that night when the knights, their women and Rynelle managed to meet once more. Rynelle decided that she would not complain if she never saw another decoration or festive light ever again in her lifetime. Her arms and back ached with the strain of a day's lifting and hanging, as she collapsed onto a seat across from Galahad.

Kalyna was standing, almost nervously under the awning near the bar, and was yet to join them. When Rynelle looked over at her, older woman seemed better than she had that morning, and there was a sparkle to her eye that had not been there before. But still, she did look more than a little nervous, and there was even a hint of discomfort to her stance.

"My Lord Galahad, Kalyna is over there," Rynelle said softly to the youngest knight, her eyes narrowing as she analysed the Sarmatian woman. "It appears that she needs you to go to her for some reason."

Galahad frowned in concern as he looked over at his woman, moving off from the table as he walked to her hurriedly. The others watched curiously as he made his way over the the brunette woman, weaving through the crowds. Her nervous smile was not lost on any of them, and neither was the animated discussion that occurred between them a moment later.

Their interest piqued, those at the knight's table watched in interest as Galahad's handsome face broke into a smile as he lifted his lover up and twirled her around happily as they laughed. "Oh no, I know va' look anywhere," Bors said with a snigger, "I fink I might have looked like tha' once or twice."

"Don't you lie Bors De Ganis!" Vanora snapped in reply with a smirk, sniffing primly as her man's arms captured her in their embrace, "You were like that every time."

The looks of confusion on the other's faces to the questions the pair aroused were about to be answered as the young couple made their way back to the table. "Brothers, I propose a toast for Kalyna and I have an announcement to make!" Galahad said, almost giddily as he picked up an ale mug, one arm still wrapped around Kalyna's waist, "Kalyna has just informed me that she is with child, my child."

Rynelle squealed in delight as the other men laughed and cheered, raising their mugs in the air. "It is obvious that the child would be yours Galahad, our Sarmatian woman here would have castrated anyone else who came near her!" Lancelot sniggered and the woman in question glared back at the first knight.

"Congratulations Galahad," Gawain spoke up, stepping forwards and patting his brother in arms on the back proudly, before leaning down and giving Kalyna a kiss on the cheek. "And you also Kalyna of course. I wish you and your child much happiness."

Rynelle almost suspected she imagined it, but she could have sworn Gawain's eyes flickered in her direction for a moment there as he spoke. "Thankyou Gawain. Who knows, maybe you will be next to find such happiness." Kalyna said sweetly, smiling up at the tawny haired man with a knowing look in her eye. Not waiting for a reply and ignoring the glare that the taller man gave her, she turned to the others and slipped her hand in Galahad's, looking up at him quickly with a smile. "You are all like my brothers and nothing would make Galahad and I more pleased than to have our child, whether it be a boy or girl, call you uncles, and aunts in Vanora and Rynelle's case."

Galahad nodded in agreement and Rynelle couldn't help the ridiculous smile that plastered itself on her lips. She couldn't remember a moment more perfect, or a time where she had been more happy.

• • •

'Would you dance with me?' Gawain asked Rynelle cordially, the music of the drums, pipes and harps rising into the air.

Rynelle blushed, flicking a look to the other knights, who were otherwise engaged with conquests that suited their temperaments. 'Of course my Lord,' she replied, holding her hand out for the knight to lead her to the floor. Soon, she had lost herself in the music, and as Gawain whirled her around, Rynelle couldn't help the laughter that burst from her. Grinning madly at the Sarmatian as the music crescendoed, she spun around and around, letting the sounds flow over her. Then, slowly as the music slowed and came to a stop, so did Rynelle, breathing heavily.

'I have never heard your laughter.' the deep rumbling voice of Gawain spoke up. Dark blue eyes twinkled down at her under a mane of tawny locks. 'You should laugh more often my Lady.'

Rynelle blushed, 'I am no Lady, my Lord.' she muttered, casting her eyes downwards 'You have seen my lot, I am no noble.'

Gentle callused fingers lifted her chin, making Rynelle's eyes rise to meet his. 'Sometimes, nobility is determined by heart rather than birth Rynelle' Gawain said, his eyes boring into hers, 'And you, my Lady are as much a noble as any I have ever met.'

Rynelle could feel the energy thrumming between them, and her breath caught in her throat. _Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me._ every nerve in her body screamed, and they were so close, their faces inches apart. But with that, he turned and left the dance floor, leaving Rynelle standing stunned where he left her; just as another dance began.


	12. Interruptions

A/N: Hello all my lovelies! Thankyou so much for your reviews/follows/favourites. Special thanks to **Em-Jaye**, **valkyriegorbash**, **KnightsQueen**, **pingtunglong**. You guys made my day(s)! :)

Bit more of an input from Tristan in this chapter - thought the silent knight needed to have a little opinion (Btw if you haven't read 'Silent Knight' by Sticklebatz (and 'Eternal Knight' for that matter)...I would recommend it! :D )

Not 100% sure my reasoning at Arthur's reaction at the end of this chapter is well expressed and/or completely believable. Let me know what you think guys! :)

Remember to Read, Review, Follow, Favourite and Most Importantly - ENJOY! :)

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XI.

How could he have just let her go like that? Gawain shook his head, tawny tendrils of hair swishing around his chiseled face. She was so close, just a few seconds more and he would have kissed her. It was those full, red lips, a single curl escaping from her braid and hanging down beside her cheek that drew him in. Her eyes, hopeful, green and...innocent. It was the look reflected in Rynelle's eyes that made Gawain realise he couldn't do it, couldn't kiss her. He knew, that with even just one kiss, he wouldn't be able to stop, she was just so intoxicating. So gentle, so lovely and so innocent. If he kissed her, there would be no turning back and he couldn't be the one to do that to her, someone so...damaged as he.

With a mental groan of frustration, Gawain stalked over to a bar table and plonked himself down onto a bench. He had only been seated for a minute when a pair of fingers traced themselves over his shoulder blades, "Hello handsome, why so sad? Anything I could do to help?" the purring voice that accompanied the hands could only belong to Amurfina, one of the prettier and nicer tavern women.

The raven-haired woman curled around him and slid onto his lap, twirling a scraggly lock of hair between her fingers. Amurfina watched him closely, this was not the Gawain she was used to. No smiling, laughing jokes, of a man who acted happy to try and become happy. He had been replaced with this brooding, unsmiling stranger.

"No Amurfina, I am sorry, but you could not do anything to help me tonight." Gawain sighed, and Amurfina noted once more the almost defeated air to the man. As if he were battling inner demons.

In all her years of experience, of knowing the knights, she knew there were times when they would sink into these pits of depression. Each for their different reason; the toll of killing, the loss of a friend, whatever it was, Amurfina had learned that sometimes, it was best to let them be. "I understand Gawain, I hope you will feel yourself soon my friend." she said softly, giving the man a small smile as she kissed his cheek and headed off for the night.

• • •

Rynelle watched as the lovely black haired woman entwined herself around her knight. When she began playing with one of his curls and Gawain made no motion to move away, Rynelle couldn't bear to watch anymore.

Feeling hollow, she tore herself away and began walking aimlessly back the way she came. No wonder he hadn't kissed her, if she had been him, she would have chosen the beautiful black-haired woman over her too. At least she had found out before she did something stupid; thrown herself at him only to be rejected. Suddenly, the sounds of joy and festivities did not evoke the same excitement in her that they did before.

It was only when Rynelle noticed the first rays of the sun rising over the tops of the cottages that she realised just how long they had been celebrating, and how tired she was. With a sigh, she turned down a narrow alley leading out to one of the main streets and stopped herself just in time.

It couldn't be. Quickly, she hid herself in the shadows, and watched with frightened, luminous eyes as the man and his guards trotted on their horses up to the inner bailey. Instinctually, Rynelle shivered in terror and fled back once more the way she had come. Everything she feared most had caught up with her and her worst nightmare was beginning to come true.

• • •

Tristan was the only one to notice a silent and pale Rynelle slink back into the great hall, hiding in the shadows and standing poised like a rabbit ready to run for it's life. The scout cocked his head and watched her intently. A hunter always knew the look of the hunted, and everything about the way she was acting suggested a creature being hunted.

He ignored the sudden clatter of the doors to the great hall opening and instead focused on the little mouse instead. Tristan watched as she looked to the door, froze then skittered backwards, pressing herself further into the shadow of the wall, almost as if she wished to be absorbed by it.

It was her reaction that made him curious, and he glanced towards the doors. Tristan immediately tensed when he saw Lord Gower standing there imperiously, his guards arrayed around him. Even though he could understand a particular cold dislike of the man, he could not fathom the girls fear of him...unless...

'_We are bringing back a run-away Sir knight, from the house of Lord Gower._' Tristan's eyes narrowed as his eyes flickered from the girl to the Lord and back again. The tension had heightened as soon as the other man had stepped in the room.

When they had returned from their emissary mission, he and Gawain had informed the other knights and the King of the Lord's treachery. Arthur however, had decided that they did not have enough conclusive evidence to suggest the attack was planned by Gower. The mercenaries were not wearing his colours, and he had no desire to start a war so early in his regency, even though the thought made him uncomfortable.

Tristan noted cooly the way the other knights put down their ales and sat casually, their bodies tense as their hands rested on their weapons. Galahad had somehow maneuvered himself protectively in front of Kalyna, his eyes sparkling dangerously.

The Lord's eyes widened a little, nostrils flaring slightly as he assessed the scene in front of him, and Tristan kept his eyes trained directly on the piece of human slime. Whatever reason Rynelle had to be afraid of this man, he would not be the one to give her away.

Quickly, he caught Kalyna's eye and jerked his head to the corridor where Rynelle's slim form could be seen to slip out of sight. The Sarmatian woman nodded once, whispered something in Galahad's ear and smoothly walked out the same way as the younger woman.

Tristan noticed that the sounds of festivities that had filled the room had died down when Gower entered; he noticed when the lord's eyes followed the brunette woman's figure as she walked from the room; he noticed when Galahad visibly tensed, his hand clenching to white around the pommel of one of his daggers. Tristan shook his head, braids swinging from side to side. The pup was anything but inconspicuous.

• • •

Kalyna followed the younger woman as she raced through the streets of Caer-Legions. She was surprised at how fast Rynelle was, but all in all, she knew she would be able to catch up. "Rynelle! Stop!" she said, breathing heavily as she reached out to the woman a metre or so ahead of her.

The blonde woman stopped so sharply that Kalyna struggled to pull herself up, "Rynelle, my dearest, what's wrong?" she said comfortingly, pulling the now sopping girl towards her. Quietly, she held her friend, waiting until she felt strong enough to speak.

"I-I-It's him," she whispered, shuddering in the older woman's arms. "He's here Kalyna! What am I going to do?! How am I going to be able to hide from him? How can I-"

Rynelle was cut off by a loud roar from the direction of the great hall. The sound definitely did not bode well, and her eyes widened in fear. "Come now, let's get you back to your room." Kalyna said soothingly, leading the younger woman to her quarters, "I think it might be time for you to tell me everything. No secrets anymore Rynelle."

• • •

The great hall was in an uproar. Gawain and the other Sarmatian knights were all standing menacingly, looking towards the doors, where Lord Gower had just exited. It was only Arthur's insistence that they not act, that had stopped the men from tearing the noble apart.

"Arthur, why can you not see that you had no need to allow such a slight to be aimed at you!" Lancelot snarled, "You are the King, Arthur! Not some common peasant!"

The man in question stared cooly at his first knight, "It is diplomatic Lancelot, I do not wish to be the one that starts a war so early in my regency." Arthur said with a sigh, "Yet I will if I must. However, I would rather take another means and prevent the bloodshed of more innocents."

The first knight growled, and Gawain noticed his shoulders visibly tense. "So you would have us turn to cowards? Running from the first signs of battle?" Lancelot said, and the change in the King was immediate.

"I run from nothing Sir Lancelot." Arthur snapped, standing from his place at the table, fury emanating off his body; but before he could do anything, Guinevere placed a gentle hand on her husbands arm. In all the commotion, Gawain had forgotten that she even still sat in the room. The effect was immediate, Arthur visibly relaxed, shooting his queen a grateful, loving look as he sat once more.

"Might I suggest we simply listen Lancelot." Galahad spoke up calmly from his place at the table, "I would rather not see blood shed either. We do not need another war. For once, perhaps you could use your brain instead of your body."

Lancelot's eyes narrowed and his mouth opened to make some retort, but Gawain interjected before another argument could begin. "Enough. Let us simply try and answer the question. If we do not answer correctly, we may well have to go into battle anyway Lancelot." he sighed.

"What is it that a woman wants most?" Tristan spoke up, musing on the riddle set by the noble; his voice dark and emotionless. Perhaps Arthur was right, it could not be that difficult to solve such a short riddle; quickly, he took a swig from his goblet, "I cannot answer this question Arthur. My knowledge is no use here."

Lancelot smirked and opened his mouth again to say something most probably sly, but Bors cut him off, making the first knight scowl like a child, "I fink tha' there is only one of us fit teh answer tha' question." the man said smugly, noting the looks of interest and confusion from his fellow knights. Raising his goblet in a mocking salute, he nodded his head towards the queen, "Guinevere."

Gawain stared at the oldest knight in surprise, and dimly, he could hear Galahad choking on his ale; shocked that a thought so insightful could have come from Bors. Of course, Gawain mused, the man was right, who would know what all women truly wanted? A woman of course.

The knights all looked expectantly to their queen who looked severely uncomfortable at the question they were asking of her. "What a woman wants most..." Guinevere pondered aloud, her eyes glazed over and Gawain had the feeling she was thinking of herself, "I would say, a loving husband."

Arthur smiled, lifting his wife's hand to press a soft kiss to the back of her knuckles. Gawain squirmed in his seat in discomfort, and he couldn't stop the image of Rynelle smiling at him as he did the same to her pushing it's way into his mind. "But I cannot speak for all women," Guinevere continued, her lips pursed, "I would suggest you collect as many answers as possible. He will return in a week, it would be best to prepare."

"I agree with the queen" Galahad said, running a hand through his hair, "We must begin as soon as possible."

Gawain couldn't help the feeling however, as planning progressed late into the night, that somehow, this would not be as easy as it seemed and the war that most hoped would be averted would come knocking at their keep.


	13. Cost of Freedom

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Phew, this chapter I have had written since pretty much the first day I posted the first chapter of this story! This is really where the mythology of this story really comes in, and by now, I'm guessing a few of you have realised which story this belongs to. If you have, drop me a line ;)

Now, Thanks so much to **Melisseee**, **x0Skay0x**, **Hollow Emotion**, **kamarooka**, **ZabuzasGirl**, **amourpatinage** (and **lewilder** for her words of enougragement :) ) and to all you lovely people who reviewed! Thanks a million you guys!

Remember to Read, Review, Follow, Favourite and Most Importantly - ENJOY! :)

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XI.

_Gower swaggered into the Great Hall with an arrogance that could only be described as limitless. He had no intention of joining this little party or festival, as these - dare he call them people- had labelled it. No, he sneered at the thought. He had come to issue a challenge. An ultimatum for the thing he craved the most._

_The thing with this new 'King of the Brittons' as this rag-tag group of people had decided to dub themselves; was that he was known for his leniency, his mercy and less than gung-ho attitude. This...King...preferred to use his head and heart over his sword, and that was exactly the place where Gower would exploit him. _

_"I am here to speak with Arthur, King of the Brittons," Gower said imperiously, his voice cold and loud. His words made the Sarmatian knights that stood before him tense immediately. He could feel the fury and barely concealed bloodlust radiating off them. "In a private conference."_

_The man, Arthur, did not flinch, staring him down, "Lord Gower, I hide nothing from my knights nor my wife." he said evenly, "Please, you may say whatever you have to here, in front of them."_

_Gower's nostrils flared, just as they always did when he was angered, but otherwise he did not overly show his displeasure. "Very well." he said, his guards fanning out behind him "I Lord Gower do hereby issue an ultimatum to Arturius Castus, so called King of the Brittons; that in one week from today, if you have not correctly answered the following riddle, the house of Gower, and it's allies will call war on the Brittons."_

_With that last statement, the table exploded into uproar and before he knew it, his guards were unconscious and he was held pinned up to the wall by a livid knight. "Arthur, on your honour as a noble, I call you to stop this," he wheezed, the dark knight holding him letting out a snarl, "I have come here unarmed, issuing this challenge."_

_"Do not you dare speak to him, you pathetic excuse for a noble," the knight who currently had his arm to his throat spat, "Tristan and Gawain should have killed you when they had a chance."_

_Arthur considered him, his face expressionless, "Lancelot, let him go." he spoke out, and the curly haired knight glared at his captive, shoving him once more before stepping away, albeit reluctantly, murder in his eyes. "What are your terms Gower? And this is not an indication I have any desire whatsoever to heed you. What are your motives?"_

_Gower opened his arms in a placating way and sneered, "The terms are simply: You answer correctly, there will be no war, I will never challenge you again - you will have shown yourself to be an intelligent leader, and I will pay a double tax on all that is owed to the crown for the remainder of the time that my house lives. If you loose however, my allies and I will wage war on Camelot and it's people, and there will be no mercy," he said, his voice dripping with contempt, "My motives are simple also, to assume the role that should have rightfully been mine - full Lordship of this island. Do you accept my terms?"_

_Arthur said nothing for a moment, and the two men glared at each other. "I accept." came the quiet reply, much to the horror and protests of the knights, "Now, what is this riddle."_

_"Oh Arturius," Gower snarled, "It is easy: What is it that a woman wants most?"_

• • •

Two days after the fateful intrusion of Lord Gower - dare he be called that - on the celebration of Queen Guinevere's birthday, Gawain had still not seen hide nor hair of Rynelle, it was as if she had vanished.

She was never at the taverns with the others, nor was she with Kalyna, or Guinevere for that matter. When he had casually asked the other knights of her whereabouts, all had looked at him in confusion. All except Tristan that is. The scout had stared at him through his dark tangles of hair, as if he were analysing him, reading his mind.

"Something is wrong Gawain." he had said quietly, and the younger blonde knight was surprised by his candor. Tristan's admission had done nothing but increase his worry. If he had said something was wrong, then there was definitely a problem.

• • •

Rynelle sifted through her repressed memories, searching for the answer she knew lay hidden in their depths. Kalyna had come and told her what had occurred after she ran the next day. There were not secrets between the two women now.

The riddle plagued her mind, and Rynelle spent her entire day wracking her brain - not eating, barely sleeping - her entire being focused on finding the answer. She had barely moved from her bed in all that time.

Slowly, when she opened her eyes that particular morning, the first thing she laid eyes on was the shirt of Gawain's that she had been mending before any of this mess had ever happened, the needle still poking...The needle.

Suddenly, the memories came back to her in a flood.

• • •

_"Who is Bacchus mamma?" A much younger Rynelle asked, no more than five or six at the time. Her green eyes wide as she watched her mother sew._

_The older woman laughed, her green eyes, the same as hers shining. Gently, her mother pulled her younger self onto her lap, "Bacchus is one of the Gods of my people - a Roman god, who existed before the Christian God. He was in charge of looking after the wine Rynelle. He was very, very handsome and liked to throw parties and have fun." she said, pointing to the grapes embroidered on the fabric she was working on, "However, Bacchus wasn't always very nice. His creature was the panther - a great black cat. When Bacchus was angry, he'd go quite mad and be very nasty."_

_The younger Rynelle looked up at her mother with wide eyes, "I like Minerva - the goddess of wisdom." she piped up, smiling happily, "One day I will be just like her!"_

_There was a sound behind them, and mother and daughter turned to see a young boy, about 10 years of age standing in the doorway listening. "Gower darling, come in." her mother said kindly, and the body did so, albeit looking a little sulky that he was caught listening in. "Now I am going to tell the two of you a very special riddle, listen closely. What is it, that a woman wants most?"_

• • •

Rynelle burst into the King's chambers unheeding of her appearance, and not bothering to knock. When she flung the door open, Arthur, working at his desk, drew his sword with a hiss. When he saw who it was however, he re-sheathed it, although he still remained wary of her.

Regardless of the fact that she knew she was being rude, Rynelle could not stop herself, 'I can give you what you want. What you search for.' she persuaded desperately, her mind working furiously, 'I only ask for something in return.'

The King considered her with his sombre grey eyes. 'What can you give girl?' Arthur asked, a faint sting of coldness to his words, 'What do you ask?'

Rynelle took a deep breath and continued, 'I can give you the answer you seek,' she looked up at him with pleading eyes, 'All I ask is you protect me from Lord Gower, you see, I am Dame Rynelle de Fleur - a title passed from my parents to me, and Gower, he is my cousin.'

A flash of surprise flickered through the King's eyes, before he quickly resumed his impenetrably cold mask. 'What are you willing to do in order to escape him?' he asked sharply.

Rynelle did not even have to think on the answer before she replied, 'Anything.'

• • •

'Knights, I have called you here today to discuss an issue of great importance.' Arthur said, 'As you all know, Lord Gower comes here in but a few days time.'

Lancelot nodded, 'Yes we are accumulating as many answers as possible from the people of Camelot. Messengers have also been sent to neighboring fiefs for answers.' he added.

'I have just discovered some vital information that could secure the right answer.' the King said with a sigh, 'Rynelle is the cousin of Gower, and lived with him for many years. She has offered the right answer to the riddle as she tells that it was one her own mother told of once; however, she will only give this answer at a price.'

Suddenly, everything clicked into place for Gawain, her fear of the other man, and her complete and utter disregard for courtly manners. All were simply an attempt to hide herself from the man she loathed.

The other knights all frowned in confusion, 'Rynelle never appeared to be the type for blackmail my lord.' Galahad offered.

Arthur sighed and rubbed a tired hand over his forehead, 'She is not that type. She asks only that I protect her, but even as a ward of mine she would not be protected enough.' he said, 'Her cousin is still her closest male relative and would have the power and right to rule over her. If she stays here and does not return to him then Gower could spread the word that we are keeping her here, and cause dissent in our countrymen. The only way for her to escape this fate is to marry.'

Silence hung about the room as his words were considered. None could believe their ears, but each considered their availability for the task at hand. Bors and Galahad were already ruled out of the possibility, as they both had women of their own. 'However I cannot accept it.' Arthur continued, 'I would never force one of you, my brothers into an arranged marriage, without love, only as a means of saving me.'

'You do not have to ask us Arthur,' Gawain spoke up softly, 'You have saved each and every one of our lives more times than we can possibly count.'

'Gawain is right Arthur,' Lancelot added, reclining back on his chair with a small smirk on his face 'I guess I could get used to the idea of married life.'

Galahad let out a short bark of laughter, 'You? Married? You'd never be faithful to her, and that poor girl deserves more than you.'

Just as Lancelot was about to snap something back, a voice spoke up from the shadows. 'I would offer myself,' Tristan said, as ever his face an impenetrable mask, but as he spoke a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, 'however I feel Rynelle is more terrified of me than she cares to admit.'

The room interrupted into argument about who was to do what. Lancelot did not back down from his proposal of marrying Rynelle while Galahad argued it would be cruel to inflict such 'torture' as he called it upon her. Meanwhile Arthur was deep in a heated conversation with Bors and Tristan about whether or not there was any way out of such a result.

'I will do it.' When no-one paid any attention, Gawain spoke up louder, 'I said I will marry her.' The force of his voice caused all to still and turn to look at him. 'It is only right I do so. I am the one who found her, I brought her here, if I had not taken her under my wing then none of what has come to pass would have occurred. I gave my promise to protect her and so I shall.'

'But Gawain..' the King tried to plead with him but was cut off.

'No my Lord.' Gawain interjected, 'This is what is meant to happen I am sure of it. She will give you what you need and I will marry her to protect her.'

"Is there nothing I can do to convince you otherwise?" The room was silent as Gawain shook his head emphatically, 'I will never be able to repay you for service you are doing Gawain.' Arthur said quietly.

'My King, you already have.' The tawny haired man replied with a grim smile. 'The wedding must be quiet and immediate though, tonight in fact. Arthur will you marry us?'

The King nodded his assent, albeit with great hesitation, when Galahad spoke up, a look of complete disapproval in his eyes. 'Has anyone given any consideration to the other half of this matter?' he asked sardonically, 'Has Rynelle even given her consent? Does she even know what her fate is to be?'

'You do not think I would make a good husband Galahad?' Gawain tried to joke weakly, and received a look of displeasure in return.

'That is not the point Gawain and you know it.' Galahad replied hotly, turning to the King, 'Well? Does she?'

'I did in fact consult with Rynelle before I called this meeting and she informed me that she would do whatever was necessary.' Arthur said cooly, 'Do not think me so oblivious to the ways of the heart Galahad, I did not want this.'

Slightly abashed, the youngest knight nodded, his eyes downcast. 'I understand Arthur, but I cannot help but hope for another way to work this out.' he said. "She is a sweet girl, she does not deserve this."

'If I may ask, what is the answer to this riddle that she gives?' Lancelot commented dryly, 'If you are to hold up your end of the bargain, she has done the same?'

'Rynelle has asked that I tell no-one of the answer until it is revealed in the court, and even then, the answer will only be revealed to Gower himself. I swore to heed her.' Arthur replied, rousing a grumble from the men, 'It is not that she does not trust you, but that she is afraid somehow the answer will be passed on and her cousin will realise that she is the one who told us the answer. Therefore, I cannot tell you my brothers.'

Gawain nodded in understanding, he trusted Arthur's judgement if nothing else.

• • •

Kalyna listened to Galahad's aggravated and very animated description of what had taken place in the meeting in silence. It was only when he had finished, breathing heavily, that a slow smile stole across her features.

Her lover turned to her in confusion when he noticed her expression. 'Why are you smiling? This is not news to laugh or be merry about!' he muttered darkly, walking over and flopping down on the bed beside her with a sigh, 'It is a complete disaster.'

Kalyna continued to smile at that and let a soft laugh escape her as she nestled closer to Galahad, soaking up the warmth he provided - amplified when he brought one arm about her shoulders, pulling her tighter against him. 'You worry too much Galahad.' she yawned, snuggling into his shoulder 'I think you will see fairly soon, that maybe this marriage won't be a bad thing after all.'

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**A/N:** Ok, Rynelle's last name is not 'de Fleur' in the mythology, but I honestly thought someone as pretty as her needed a nice last name, and that was the first thing that came to my head. Hope this chapter didn't seem to clichéd! Was anyone completely thrown for a twist? Tell me how I did! Pretty please? :)


	14. What Have We Done?

**A/N:** Well howdy! Here's chapter 13! Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed last chapter; especially **Azure83** for following, and **casey210791**! After this, and the next chapter - I haven't written anything, so posts might be a bit fragmented :)

**casey210791**: You didn't have an account so I couldn't reply to you in person - but thankyou! I'm so glad you enjoyed it! :D I hope you like this chapter just as much! :)

Remember to Read, Review, Follow, Favourite and Most Importantly - ENJOY! :)

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XII.

Rynelle studied herself in the mirror, noting the paleness of her face, the shadows about her eyes and the stringy-yellow of her hair. She felt sick to her stomach at the thought of what she was about to do. The King had sent Jols down to her that same afternoon, and the manservant had informed her that one of his knights had offered to marry her, and that the ceremony was to be conducted that night.

She shivered slightly in her dress at the thought. Somewhere else in the keep, was the man she would spend the rest of her life bound to. Briefly, Rynelle wondered who had offered to marry her. It could not have been Bors or Galahad, for obvious reasons - they already loved another, and would never dream of taking another woman. Somehow she doubted Lancelot would wish to give up his free and leisurely lifestyle to take her as a wife. That left Gawain and Tristan.

Gawain and Tristan; the lion and the hawk. Neither were fit to stoop to such a level as to take a mouse like her as a wife. Both of them good men; both light and dark; although the dark of Tristan overwhelmed her at times. She would not be able to bear it if the knight she was to marry was Gawain. The sight of him sitting with the raven-haired woman on his lap would haunt her until the end of her days. It would tear her to pieces knowing that the man she was married to, and loved, did not return her sentiments. That she had trapped him in a loveless marriage to save his King.

A knock at her door broke Rynelle from her musings, and hastily, she went to open it. Her heart pounding at the thought that it could be Jols, coming to bring her to Arthur already. She did not even know how much time had passed, or what time of day it was. Thankfully, when she opened it however, it was Kalyna that stood there, her face kind and fabric in hand.

"Oh Rynelle!" the Sarmatian woman cried, bursting into the room and crushing her in an embrace, before breaking away "I am so sorry! All will be alright, you will see." Rynelle nodded mutely, finding that once more, her voice had abandoned her, just as it had so many times before. She looked up to find the older woman's hazel eyes fixed on her face an watching her expression. "You are not going dressed like that are you?" Kalyna finally said, breaking the silence.

Rynelle looked down at her dress in confusion. It was the better of her two dresses, and she had decided it was better than wearing nothing. "Yes, I was." she replied slowly, looking up once more to find the other woman shaking her head.

"That will certainly not do!" Kalyna tsked, shaking her head and closing the door behind her, "You are getting married - at least you could TRY and look happy about it - you look like you're going to a funeral!"

Rynelle frowned and pouted, crossing her arms as she viewed the fabric Kalyna was holding out for her to take. It was a light blue, and it looked soft, clean and pretty. As she was, it made her skin crawl - she just couldn't take it off the other woman.

"I cannot wear that," she croaked, choking on the words, the guilt rising in her, "I am not fit to wear it."

Kalyna's eyes narrowed at that, "Don't you dare say that," she said, so menacingly that Rynelle's eyes widened and the younger woman took a step back, "Do not belittle yourself! You have been strong thus far and strong you shall be now! Now come, bathe yourself and then I will do your hair. You will walk into that room looking not like a frightened young girl, but as the beautiful woman you are."

Rynelle stood where she was for a moment, considering Kalyna's words. As usual, the Sarmatian woman was right. She straightened herself up a little and nodded sharply, setting her jaw in determination. She was her mothers daughter, and she would be strong.

• • •

Gawain sat in the Great Hall with Arthur and the other knights. There was food and wine on the table, but he could stomach none of it. For any moment now, Rynelle would come through that door, and Arthur would join them together as man and wife.

He had never been more terrified in all his life. Never would he admit it, but all the bloody wars on this earth paled in comparison to the task he was about to undertake. "To Gawain!" Lancelot's cheer jerked him from his anxiety. "The maidens knight!"

"To Gawain!" The other knights chorused, some more cheerfully than others. Galahad in particular did not seem pleased, but he raised his goblet all the same. Arthur watched his knights silent and solemn, none but Guinevere noticed anything out of the ordinary with him. She was the only one who could see and feel his hand clenched around hers for support beneath the table.

Suddenly, everyone's attention was drawn to one of the side doors as it creaked and opened, revealing Jols and Kalyna. Gawain noticed that Galahad lightened immediately when he saw her. The Sarmatian woman smiled at the youngest knight, and stepped aside to reveal the woman behind her.

Kalyna had given Rynelle a blue dress, not dissimilar to the one Guinevere wore at her wedding to Arthur. Dimly, he realised it was probably something to do with the Woad idea of blue representing purity. A deep emerald-green cloak rested on her shoulders, fastened in the middle by some sort of brooch or clasp, and the colour only highlighted the green of her eyes. He had never paid this much attention to what a woman wore before.

The thing that really drew him was the sadness in her eyes. Rynelle's face was pale and drawn with worry, yet the sweet lines of her lips were pressed together and she looked determined. Her hair was braided and wrapped around her head, and Kalyna had arrayed small flowers around it - he could smell the lavender from here. The effect was one of a halo and for the first time in his life, Gawain's breath caught in his throat. She looked like a fey - one of the faerie folk from the stories he had sometimes heard the Brittons tell their children; or one of the angels that Arthur spoke of. An ethereal being; and absolutely beautiful.

• • •

Rynelle stared straight ahead throughout the whole ceremony. She couldn't bear to look at the man standing beside her. It was her worst nightmare, and greatest dream rolled into the one, most significant moment in her entire life.

Gently, Gawain took her hand in his own and held it out between them towards Arthur. Rynelle hoped, more than anything else, that the blonde knight could not feel how hard her hands shook. Was she dreaming, or did he just squeeze her hand slightly?

"The latin phrase "Vitam impendere vero" means to consecrate one's life to truth, and so should truth be the meat of all your dealing within your marriage. Honesty, trust, communication, effort, understanding... all these are the building blocks of a firm marriage, and your solemn responsibility to one another." The King said, looking her straight in the eyes as he passed the cord over and between their hands. But Rynelle refused to quail under his glare and stared cooly back at him. She had already resigned herself to her fate, there was nothing he could do to stop her now. "At this moment you stand at the gateway between your old life and your new. If you, for whatever reason, feel unable to step through that portal at this time, speak now.

Again, this time she felt it for sure. Gawain's hand tightened about hers, as if afraid she would run. What need did he have to fear? Perhaps he was having second doubts. She would not judge him if he was, in fact she would understand.

Arthur sighed when neither of the pair made any move to break away from each other. Slowly, he tied the knot that bound their hands together, and took a step back. "By the power bequeathed to me by the people of Britton, and as King, I pronounce you man and wife." he said, the resignation clear in his voice, "So Mote It Be."

"So Mote It Be." the congregation of knights and women chorused in reply, and Rynelle and Gawain turned to face the others. _My husband_, she thought numbly, _What have I done?_

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**A/N:** I've uploaded a link to a picture of what I think Rynelle's hair would look like on my profile - check it out if you have time. In fact I researched everything for a traditional Celtic/British wedding and that was how I found the picture! :P It also explains why, in the movie, when Guinevere and Arthur were married, she wore a blue dress. Blue was the colour of purity before white came into the equation :) Also it was traditional for Celtic brides to wear a green cloak or sash, and for their hair to be worn in braids as it symbolises feminine power and luck. Lavender was traditionally used because it means loyalty, luck, love and devotion

Additionally, Arthur's lines (well the large section) came from a website that gave the words to say at a traditional Celtic wedding. HERE: www. /how-to-perform-a-handfasting-ceremony-a-68. html (take away the spaces) I know that that is probably not how it was done in this period, but I found it to be quite beautiful so I decided to use it. :)


	15. Resolution

**A/N:** Ok everyone - SO much insecurity with this chapter! You have NO idea... Please let me know what you think of this! The writers block was horrific, and it was already half-written! (However - antidote for writers block = rediscovering the soundtrack and listening to it as I write :P)

Also - Just letting you know **I WANT THIS DONE BY CHRISTMAS** (New Years Resolution before New Years. Y'all have to hold me to it! :P ) So I'll basically be posting whenever I can over the next two weeks :)

Thank so much for your reviews! Especially to **Sarasva** for following and **Dainty Doo** for favouriting :)

**Pingtunglong**: Gah! No PM'ing allowed so I couldn't reply in person! :( Anyway, Yes poor Lancelot - you are quite right! :P And I agree, not many people seem to show Guinevere and Arthur's relationship after the events of the movie - especially when stories are focused on the other knights. They're married - so I'd assume they argue just like any other normal couple. It's not fairyland, and I don't think everything would always be fine and dandy. People always have different opinions even when they love each other. I'm glad you liked that :) Thanks so much for your reviews!

Remember to Read, Review, Follow, Favourite and Most Importantly - ENJOY! :)

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XIV.

Guinevere made her way over to the other two women, observing the proceedings in silence. The three watched as, one by one, each of the other knights went to wish the newly married couple their congratulations. Collectively, they sighed as they noticed the way man and wife stood awkwardly with one another, their bodies tense.

"You'd think they were just about to be attacked by Saxons the way they're so stiff." Kalyna muttered darkly, her dark brows constricted as her sharp eyes watched the scene before them. "I wish they would mend their differences soon. What say we lock them in a room until they sort their problems out?"

"Kalyna, really!" Guinevere rolled her eyes at the younger woman.

Vanora patted the queen's arm gently, "Don't worry - it's just the hormones talking." she said wisely, "I was the same on occasion."

"Just the- Vanora!" Kalyna yelped and glared at the smirking older women, "I think you will find, I am correct and that IS all they need." she sniffed depreciatingly, "It worked for me."

Guinevere smiled evilly, "Oh we KNOW it did," the Queen ignored her friend's growl and jerked her head in the direction of the new couple. "Come. I believe it is time for us to offer our congratulations to the not-yet happy couple."

• • •

Rynelle was standing next to her new husband when her three female friends came to her, offering their congratulations. The knights had come before that, some with less cheer than others (Galahad).

"Remember Rynelle, every man is not the same." Gunievere said gently, brown eyes holding green, before the younger woman's gaze flickered to the next speaker.

Kalyna took her free hand in her own, "Indeed not, try to forget what your past experiences with-" her eyes flickered to the tawny-haired man, speaking with the other knights before turning back once more, her voice lowered to a whisper. "Gower...Gawain is a good man. Do not let the memories of your past taint your future."

Guinevere nodded in agreement as Kalyna gave the blonde woman's hand a soft squeeze. Rynelle smiled softly, taking their advice to heart. Her heart was already starting to beat wildly, and she hadn't even left the room yet. Finally, she turned her attention to the fiery red-head.

Vanora smiled at her, "I canna' pretend I know much 'bout fine things an' such. But I do know this-" she said easily, leaning forward and whispering in the younger woman's ear. As Bors' lover spoke, Rynelle's face grew redder with every second, even after her friend pulled away. There was absolutely no way she would ever repeat what Vanora had just said.

It was in that moment, that Gawain decided to look over at her, and Rynelle cursed the fact that she was blushing to the roots of her hair. Whatever he thought, his eyes were soft, and she almost smiled at him - until she remembered his reasoning for marrying her; and bile filled her mouth.

• • •

To say that the moment they stepped into their chambers the air had filled with tension would have been an understatement. Slowly, Gawain took the hand that was still bound to his, and undid the knot. As soon as he did so, Rynelle stepped further into the room, casting her gaze around. It had been his own personal chambers since they had moved from the wall, and now they were hers too.

Gawain felt an overwhelming surge happiness at the thought of her living here with him, yet it was tinged with bitterness that she had not chosen him. She had only accepted him out of necessity. He realised that she might be nervous - he had heard what she and the other women had said (he was standing next to her at the time of course) and although he did not know exactly what they meant, he had a sure idea of what it was they spoke of.

The thought that her cousin had dared to even look at her filled him with poisonous fury. He had to make her understand he was not like Gower. He would never hurt her. "I will not touch you Rynelle. I understand you have married me out of necessity, and I would not expect you to...do the things other wives...are expected to do..." Gawain stumbled a little, halting his spiel when he saw the way the blonde woman visibly stiffened.

"You would refuse your rights as a husband on your wedding night, simply because you married me out of duty? Tell me Gawain, do you know what it is to be looked at and despised? To be considered so lowly that none would cast you a second thought?" Rynelle spat, her green eyes glowing in anger as she turned on him, catching him by surprise, "You may have thought yourself alone when you came to this country but you had your brothers in arms. I...have no-one. I am forever alone."

Gawain shook his emphatically, somehow he had to get his point across to her, "I do not despise you, and you are not alone, you are a married woman now." he said. For some reason, that seemed to be the wrong thing to say, making the blonde girl even angrier.

"Ha!" she exclaimed in annoyance, her eyes flashing as she stalked closer to him, "A married woman I may be, but a married woman can be just as alone as a single woman in a loveless marriage!"

Gawain could control his temper no longer. He had to make her see, to understand. "You truly think that this will be a loveless marriage? I have loved you from that moment I saw you standing in the square with Tristan, when I first brought you here." he growled as he strode up to her capturing her biceps in his large hands and giving her a small shake as her eyes flew wide in shock, "Yet it is you who doubts me, you who makes yourself alone."

Shaking his head in disgust and hurt, he stepped away from Rynelle and turned to face the door of the chamber. "I apologise that I am not the one to fill your desires," he murmured, his eyes unfocused as they stared at the solid, closed door "but at least you will be safe in your marriage to me. I have sworn to be a good husband to you, and I shall do all that I can to fulfill my promise."

Rynelle had been unable to speak, sure that what she was hearing was a product of her imagination, a dream. He had said he loved her! How she had longed to hear that - for so long had she wished to hear him say it, and now that he had, he thought she did not return his love? How foolish she had been! Rynelle cursed herself for her stupidity, she had to make him see, to understand. "Gawain. Stop, please. I beg of you." she choked out, racing up behind him and touching him on the arm in order to have him turn to her, "Say that again. Please. I want...I need to hear you say it."

Gawain stared at her a moment, before stepping forward and capturing her in his arms. "I love you Rynelle, little mouse." he said fiercely, cupping her face in his palm, "You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen and I would not part with you for all the money or jewels in the world.

Tears of happiness began to escape from the corners of Rynelle's eyes as he spoke, "Oh Gawain." she whispered with a sob, wrapping her arms about his neck to pull him closer, burying her face in his shoulder. "I thought it was a dream."

"No dream my love." Gawain replied, kissing her hair, and wrapping her strong arms about her thin waist, "I am here, and I will never, NEVER let anyone hurt you. Not so long as there is breath in my body, nor strength in my arm. No harm will ever come to you."

Rynelle didn't know how long they stood there like that, locked in one another's embrace, but the silence was broken when Gawain spoke once more. Taking her by the shoulders, he pried her an arms length away from him and tilted her chin up so that green eyes met blue. "Rynelle, little mouse, my darling. Please tell me that what my heart has most hoped to hear for so long has come true. Do you love me?" he asked hoarsely, his gaze boring into hers and making it impossible for Rynelle to look away.

"Yes." she breathed out, swearing to herself that she would never lie to this man again. "Yes Gawain, I love you with all my heart, with every fibre of my being."

The smile that lit up Gawain's face at her answer was the most beautiful expression she had seen. He was transformed, and the way he looked at her took her breath away. Literally, as he pulled her to him and crushed his lips against her own. Telling her in that one kiss, how much he loved her, how much he had longed to make her his, and that if he could, he would spend every waking moment for the rest of his life with her.

When they broke apart, Rynelle looked into the face of the man she loved for one, soul searching moment. Internally, she took a deep breath, steeling herself, before taking his hand and leading him to the bed. "What are you doing?" Gawain asked, his eyes sparkling as she began to unlace his tunic.

"I am doing this properly. I am making you mine." Rynelle whispered as they fell together into the softness of the mattress

• • •

"I am in a good mood tonight my little wife - ask me a question, any question - since you have such a love of riddles, and riddles are in fact what got us into this predicament," Gawain said humorously, twirling one of Rynelle's blonde curls absentmindedly in a finger, "and I will see if I am able to guess the right answer."

Rynelle thought for a moment before responding, "Alright. If you had to choose, to have me beautiful at night, when only you can see me, and uglier than the ugliest hag during the day - where others would laugh at me;" she said, shushing him with a finger to his lips when he opened his mouth to make a smart comment, "OR ugly at night, only when I am with you, and beautiful during the day so that others will see me for what I truly am. What would it be? I ask you this in all seriousness."

Gawain thought for a long moment. Before looking up into Rynelle's expectant green eyes. "I would let you choose my love, for it is your life and I do not wish to rule it, only to live it with you."

Rynelle stared at the man who lay next to her, before reaching over and pulling him to her in a passionate kiss. "My curse is over. In saying that, you have proved yourself to be the man I always thought you to be. A man with the heart of a lion. My love." she whispered, resting her forehead against his. Almost as an afterthought, a mischievous smile twitched across Rynelle's lips, "Have you ever heard the tale of the lion and the mouse Sir Gawain?"

An answering grin lit up Gawain's face as he propped his head up on an elbow and looked down at her, "Why no Lady, Rynelle. Unfortunately that particular story has been left out of my education." he smirked, brushing a few stray hairs from her eyes "Please, enlighten me."


	16. Quiet Moments

**A/N:** HA HA! I said I'd be having updates closer together ;) So here's chapter 15. Slightly shorter, and a bit of a filler...truthfully...it's basically fluff so...

**FLUFF ALERT! :P**

Big thanks to everyone that reviewed the last chapter! :) Your support means a lot to me :)

Remember to Read, Review, Follow, Favourite and Most Importantly - ENJOY! :)

* * *

XV.

He really could not remember a happier moment in his life, lying half asleep in the twilight hours of the morning with the woman he loved. It was quite unlike any feeling he had ever had, Gawain decided. A feeling of warmth and dare he say it, safety. It had been a long time since he had felt safe he realised.

Rynelle stirred in her sleep, her long tousled golden hair lying around her like a fan. As he watched her, she made some undecipherable noise and Gawain took it as his cue to snuggle (not that he would ever admit he 'snuggled') closer. Immediately she calmed, and the look of serene peace returned once more to her features.

Pressing his lips to her hair, Gawain thought back on what she had told him, just before he had claimed her for the first time. Her look of shame and fear as she listed all the things her cousin had done to her; and the feeling of immense fury for the man and the overwhelming love and compassion he felt for the woman beneath him.

"You are perfect to me little mouse." he had said, and he'd meant every word. Every part of her was divine, and he could not fault her for the experiences she had endured in her confinement. He did however, feel an overwhelming need to hunt down Gower and tear the man's throat out...

Frowning, Gawain shook his head slightly to clear it of those melancholy thoughts. Now was not a time for hate he decided. It was a time for happiness, and as he looked down once more on his wife - his wife - the thought gave him shivers.

This must be how Bors and Galahad felt every time they looked at their women, and the reason they were so possessive of them. Just the thought of Rynelle coming to harm made Gawain's heart wrench painfully, and his arms tightened around the sleeping woman instinctually.

Sighing as she blinked her eyes blearily, Rynelle shifted around until she was lying facing him, her body close against his, soaking in his warmth that kept away the morning chill. "Good morning." she yawned and smiled happily up at him, snuggling closer. Oh yes, he had gone quite soft.

"Do you have any idea what you look like when you are asleep?" Gawain asked teasingly, brushing a blonde lock of hair back behind her ear, making her blush. Oh how he loved it when she blushed.

Rynelle mock-glared at him, "If you say I snore I shall be most unimpressed."

Gawain laughed and smiled softly down at her, "I shan't say it then." he teased, laughing once again when she rolled her eyes and buried her face in the crook of his arm. This was exactly how things should be. Her tucked safely in here with him, away from the world and the dangers it posed.

"Rynelle, tomorrow - when Gower comes, stay here. In our chambers." Gawain said quietly, a frown marring his features. His blue eyes thoughtful. "Please."

Rynelle blinked and sat up, her eyes flashing. "You would have me stay and hide in here like a coward?" she hissed, sliding out of his grasp onto the cold stone floor and tossing a shirt over her head. Angrily, she turned her eyes back on him as Gawain stepped out behind her. "I will not! I refuse to! I have had enough of the hiding, the running. I will not stand it any longer Gawain! I will stay by your side, and do not think you can stop me!"

He had to admire the fire in her green eyes. For all she was his little mouse, she was brave. Gawain sighed and stepped closer, caressing her cheek with a gentle hand. "As you wish Rynelle." he said softly, barely holding back a laugh at the surprised look on her face - obviously she had expected more of a fight than what he had given. "But please, if you can, stay out of sight...until all is settled. There is something about this that I do not like."

• • •

"They have barely surfaced from that room for a moment in two days!" Galahad exclaimed loudly, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "It is unlike Gawain to shirk his duties."

Kalyna rolled her eyes at the other knights around the table. Her man always got a little...volatile...when he drank. "Galahad, I think you forget that they were just married. It is not unusual for a couple to disappear for a month on occasion!" she chided him, watching as he frowned childishly into his ale-mug. Finally, she made the decision, "That's it Galahad. No more alcohol for you tonight! You need to be sober for the morrow."

Galahad glared at her in reply. "Why exactly is that?" he retorted, clutching his mug tighter. The other knights immediately turned their attention to more important things (like the table top). They had no need to involve themselves in a lovers quarrel. Kalyna sighed, putting her one hand on her hip and the other on her growing abdomen before returning his glare. He took one look at where her hands were and immediately, the alcohol-cloud in his eyes began to clear.

"Because tomorrow, that pig Gower is coming and you will be absolutely no use to anyone piss-drunk." Kalyna replied bluntly. When he frowned and loosened his hold on the jar, she sighed and carefully slid herself onto his lap.

Galahad threaded his arms about her carefully, letting go of the last of his ale and pulling Kalyna gently towards him. "Gods how I love you woman." he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her neck before resting his chin on her shoulder. Kalyna smiled silently, turning her head to press her forward against his.

"Oh go to your room will you two! Pawing, mouth-to-mouth and fondling I can understand, but none of this loved-up nonsense at the table!" Lancelot groaned, as he stretched on the other side of the table. Until the moment when his eyes took on their usual mischievous twinkle,"Unless of course, you decide to come over here Kalyna and show me exactly why I should change my opinion about such things."

Kalyna and Galahad both glared at the first knight. "If I did not have Kalyna here on my lap I would knock you down." Galahad growled at the other man.

"If you did not have Kalyna on your lap, I would have her on mine." Lancelot leered, leaning back cockily; supremely enjoying the way the younger mans face steadily turned red. The dark knight decided it was quite a testament to the extent the Sarmatian woman had changed him, that the youngest knight did not charge him then and there.

Galahad turned his head to her once more, "May I hit him?" he asked the woman on his lap in a strained voice.

Kalyna considered her man, and the other for a moment, before shaking her head. "Not tonight. After tomorrow, feel free." she glared at him.

Lancelot, simply smiled like the cat that got the cream back at her, "Really woman, I didn't know you were into that sort of th-" he was cut off by a sharp jab in the arm from Bors.

"I'm off. Nora's prob'ly tired and me brats ah' no doubt runnin' 'er ragged. Li'le buggers." Bors said proudly, pushing back from the table and shooting a glare at the dark knight. " Kalyna, pup, you comin'?"

Kalyna smiled at the eldest knight and stood, taking her once-more frowning man by the hand, "Goodnight Lancelot. Tristan." she said cheerily as the three walked from the tavern.

"How am I still 'pup'!" Galahad grumbled as they made their way to their room. Kalyna had nothing to day to that so she just laughed and pressed a kiss to his cheek, a move which seemed to cheer him up a little. "I am not young any longer. Practically an old man!"

"An old man who is soon to be a father." Kalyna teased in reply as he whisked her inside.

Galahad met her eyes with an answering smile that almost blinded her, and her heart overflowed with love for this sweet knight. "One big happy family." he said, pressing a gentle hand to her abdomen, trying to find an indication of the life that moved inside.

The baby chose that exact moment to kick and Galahad's face lit up once more in delight. Kalyna couldn't help but laugh at his expression, "One big happy family indeed."

* * *

**A/N:** I know babies aren't supposed to start kicking until later into the pregnancy, so I'm going to surmise here that she's about 5 months pregnant...Just randomly thought I'd put it out there :P


	17. The Importance Of Names

**A/N:** Seriously...I am the LAZIEST person this side of Texas... (colloquialism sorry :P)

Anyway, sorry for not updating sooner, I think my plan to finish before Christmas won't be happening...Oh well...Another short one but seriously, I am just to pooped out from Christmas prep to do much else.

Special thanks to **TawnyOwl117**, and **flow3rchild21** for following, as well as **anneveyln** and **freedom rings in a howl** for favouriting. Not to mention my lovely reviewers! Thankyou! :)

Remember to Read, Review, Follow, Favourite and Most Importantly - ENJOY! :)

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XVI.

"Kalyna! Vanora! Guinevere, my lady!" Rynelle called out to the three women who were already making their way into the outer keep; and ran after them. "May I join you?"

"Of course you may!" Guinevere smiled happily at her and the three slowed down, waiting for the younger woman to catch up, "We were not expecting to see you so soon - otherwise we would have invited you to join us."

Kalyna grinned at Rynelle, "Yes, we thought you and your new husband would still be happily cooped up in that chamber of yours." She teased and the younger woman blushed. "We did not think to ask you."

Vanora grinned wolfishly, "So...ya...satisfied..." she said slyly, a mischievous glint in her eye as she wiggled her eyebrows. Rynelle only blushed further.

"Vanora - do not tease her." Gunievere chided humorously, when she caught the look on the other's face "See, now look what you have done! Now she will never tell us anything."

Kalyna laughed as she watched Rynelle turn into a tomato. Merrily, she slung her arm about the woman's shoulder. "No, she is fine. Are you not Rynelle?" she said kindly.

The younger woman nodded and straightened up, pushing the embarrassment from her face.

Suddenly their talk was interrupted by a loud yell, "Nora woman! Where'a ya goin'!" Bors called from one of the barracks, making the red head turn around with a roll of her eyes.

"I'm going t' the markets yeh great ninny! Told yeh tha' already, now if yeh don't mind - I've got work to do!" She yelled back at him in exasperation before linking arms with Kalyna and storming off through the gates.

Bors simply smiled and stood there with his arms crossed over his chest as he watched his woman march off, a grin that only widened when his eyes fell on Rynelle. "Ahhh, Rynelle, wasn't expecten' teh see ya' pet. Any idea where Gawain is? Haven' seen him yet." he said, a wicked twinkle in his eyes.

"I...ahhhh...he...no sorry, I am not sure." Rynelle stammered shyly, her confidence disappearing and embarrassment returning. "Perhaps he is already in the training ring?"

Bors grunted in reply, still smirking as he headed in said direction, "I'll just go hav' a look now see."

Abruptly, Rynelle turned, still blushing furiously and walked with her Queen out into the lower keep. When she stepped out onto the street, she took a deep breath, absorbing the sounds and sights of busy Camelot.

"It has a strange beauty, does it not?" Guinevere said softly as they watched men and women hurry about the markets, chattering and arguing. Mothers flapped after their children and vendors called the prices of their products.

Rynelle smiled at the Queen, and nodded. It was beautiful. She would never have thought that those of the nobility would have cared about the happenings of their lower subjects. It seemed most of the things she thought she knew about the world around her had been challenged in the last few months. Her gaze drifted back to the scene ahead of them, but noticed for the first time the flash of faded blue on the other woman's hands.

Instantly Rynelle was reminded of another she had met with similar faded blue lines. They were not the same type as the single tattoo Gawain had - which was still a dark blackish blue colour - a lion, curling down the outside of his left thigh - but a light, very faded blue, almost a stain. The old woman who had saved her - Neamhain, had had those very same marks.

"You are awfully quiet Rynelle. What are you thinking about?" Guinevere said, smiling as she passed one stall that was full of red apples (not doubt the stall that kept Tristan in good supply).

Rynelle smiled quickly back at her, "Oh, do you remember how I told you of my flight from Gower." When Guinevere nodded, she continued, " The old woman, Neamhain, had marks very similar to yours - I assume it is a Woad custom. I just wondered how she was faring."

Guinevere smiled at the younger woman, "If she is one of my father's people perhaps I could find out how she is." the Queen said thoughtfully and Rynelle nodded enthusiastically in reply.

"Thank you my lady! It is just that in my happiness I almost forgot all that occurred to get me here." Rynelle said regretfully, frowning at her own thoughtlessness

"None could fault you for it Rynelle" Guinevere said soothingly, "It is to be expected."

The pair walked in quiet for a few moments, studying the wares of different vendors - one man had hares, rabbits and other small, skinned creatures hanging from the roof (Rynelle steered clear of that particular stall) and another was selling small pieces of jewellery.

"Guinevere! Rynelle! We were wondering where you had got to!" Kalyna called, making the two women turn to see her hastening towards them, Vanora not far behind.

"Yeh. I was forced teh turn me focus to baby names fer Kalyna and Galahad's child." the red head said smugly as Kalyna looked pleadingly at the two newcomers. "I said mayhap Galeas or Eachan."

Guinevere laughed, and promptly ignored the look the other woman was giving her, "Ohhhh what about Setanta?" she offered, and Kalyna huffed rolling her eyes. "Seán, Uaine, or Atheas maybe?"

"What if it's a girl?" Rynelle asked cheekily, following the suit of the older women and ignoring the glare Kalyna shot at her. The concept brought forth a round of names from the older two women.

"Gráinne." Vanora smirked.

"Kelli." Guinevere replied.

"Íde" Vanora countered.

"Yvonne." Guinevere attempted.

"Áine." Vanora said smugly, "Lovely names-"

"Enough!" Kalyna growled, trying to keep her smile under wraps and nudging the two women. "And don't you start on names for me Vanora! You are hardly one to talk woman! You gave yours numbers!"

"I still can't quite believe that." Rynelle said truthfully curious, "What possessed you to give them numbers?"

Vanora flapped her hand in dismissal, "Oh they got to many to count love." she said with a sigh, "So only Gilly - our first got a proper name."

Rynelle frowned, "But shouldn't everyone have a name? A proper name?"she said, albeit a little bluntly, "Your name is important - it forms part of who you are. If you don't have a name, you cannot really know yourself."

The three older women looked at her thoughtfully, and Rynelle worried that perhaps she had been too sharp or philosophical. "Mayhap your right love," Vanora said slowly, "I ne'r thought o' it like tha'. Might 'ave to 'ave a talk with my man..."

Rynelle let out the breath she had been holding as the conversation turned to more cheerful topics; before it once again, turned serious. "Gower comes tomorrow." Kalyna said lowly, her eyes flickering in the blonde woman's direction.

The women were silent for a moment and Rynelle shifted her footing uncomfortably, "How will King Arthur meet them?" she asked Guinevere.

"We will be in the Great Hall, in front of the Round Table. Arthur will give him no quarter, not this time." The Queen replied, her eyes flashing icily, "Rynelle, you must be there. It is time to face him. He will not be able to hurt you anymore."

Rynelle's face settled into a emotionless mask as her stomach dropped. But she nodded all the same. She WOULD not fear him any longer, she COULD not, not if she wanted to get on with her life. "I know." she answered, albeit a little hoarsely, but Guinevere smiled at her as the four women made their way back into the inner keep.

"Everything will be just fine" Kalyna said soothingly, slipping an arm about the younger woman's waist with a smile, "Not only will you have your Gawain, but all our men as well-"

"Not to mention a large number of other soldiers." Guinevere added wisely.

"An' us-" Vanora finished for the other two.

Kalyna grinned, and Rynelle let a small smile flit onto her features, "See, everything will be just fine."

• • •

Arthur was closely watching the newly-weds later that night as they entered the great hall for the first time since their wedding. He still had his reservations about the two, but the blocks of his resolve were crumbling every-time Guinevere talked of them, and even now when he saw them together.

When Gawain thought none could see, he threaded his fingers through hers and looked down at his wife with an indescribable look. Arthur knew that look, it crossed his features every time he caught sight of his own wife. Everything he thought he knew about those two was always changing. How much had he missed? He watched the pair with a frown. Guinevere slipped her hand into his and gave a gentle squeeze, assuring him that all was well. Arthur looked over to his wife and gave a heavy sigh. Perhaps he should not worry about the girl and Gawain any longer. Softly, he smiled at the woman he loved and squeezed back.

* * *

**A/N:** There were in fact lions in the region of Sarmatia around this time, called Asiatic lions - which were spread from India to around about the area of modern day Greece. They became extinct in this area in the 10th century (obviously after this story - hence my use of them).

**Merry Christmas to all!**

(even if you don't celebrate it)! I hope this holiday season is lovely for you all, my lovely readers! :)


	18. Confrontation

**A/N**: I'm Baaaaack! And here's the next chapter! Hope everyone had a fabulous new year! :)

Thanks to , and **cutiepie102** for favouriting and/or following. Your support and enjoyment is much appreciated :)

Also, **Pingtunglong**: Thankyou so much for your reviews - they are always refreshing :) I'm glad you didn't mind that Gower didn't get her (yet anyway :P)...I'm actually trying to head in a different direction with Rynelle from the roles women have been given in most other stories (hope I didn't just give anything away!). LOL yes, I'm working on Lancelot's counterpart - just formulating her in my brain (have been for a while) :P But, (I'm not sure if you voted) I had a poll asking Tristan or Lancelot next...and uhhhh Tristan won :P (seemingly he's slightly more popular at the moment). So Lancelot will be lucky last (Although I may have pity on him and throw him a bit of a bone in the next story - just to make the poor sod feel a bit better). Thankyou SO much for reviewing all my chapters. Always lovely to hear from you :)

Thank you also all my other faithful reviewers, you're all worthy of knighthood ;) (HEEHEE)

Remember to Read, Review, Follow, Favourite and Most Importantly - ENJOY! :)

* * *

VII.

It was early in the afternoon when the knights began to convene in the great hall. Rynelle could almost see the dark could of anticipation that settled over the others. The grimness that came with uncertainty. Kalyna and Vanora both gave her arm a gentle squeeze as they past. A small whisper of comfort as they stepped into the great stone room with their men. Rynelle steeled herself for the task ahead and smiled faintly at Tristan as he passed. The slight nod of his head the only recognition of his support of her. Just as they were about to enter, Gawain stopped her, slipping an arm about her waist and pulling her to the side.

"You do not have to stay with us Rynelle." Gawain said softly, caressing his wife's cheek. "I would rather you stay out of sight until he has gone."

Rynelle smiled sadly and pressed her lips against his palm, "I am sorry my love, but I cannot." she whispered, looking up into his eyes, "I must face this - him. I know if I do not, then I will never be free of him. He will haunt me forever."

Gawain frowned but did not say anything. "As you wish. You are certain you gave Arthur the right answer to his riddle though are you not?" he asked, the ghost of a smile crossing his features. "I would not particularly look forward to a war anytime soon - I am too old for it."

Rynelle couldn't help but laugh at his feeble attempt to lighten the mood. "I am quite certain my knight, in fact, if you tried very hard, you might actually realise you know the answer also. And as for being too old..." she teased, casting her eyes in leisurely appraisal of his figure, letting her tongue slip between her lips to moisten them a little (they were rather dry), before raising to meet his once more, one brow arched, "I severely hope not my Lord."

Gawain growled deep in his throat, making a shiver run down the breadth of Rynelle's spine as he pulled her against him. "By the Gods woman, you really will be the death of me." he whispered, kissing her fiercely.

• • •

King Arthur sat in the back of the Great Hall, in a sizable throne chair that had been placed on a slightly raised platform upon the Caer-legions completion. It was not, he thought, a necessary sign of his authority; he would rather walk amongst his people than sit above them; but his knights had insisted. It had at least proved useful in providing a space where he could hold large meetings at once and not have to overly raise his voice in order to be heard.

Absentmindedly, he ran his thumb over Guinevere's knuckles and threw a soft smile in her direction as they waited. It was a comfort, having her beside him - radiating regality and yet kind understanding.

"Arthur?" A voice suddenly spoke up from beside him, making him turn and nod grimly to his second-in-command. The dark-haired man bowed his head slightly to his King, and then, to his Queen.

"Lancelot, where is he as we speak?" Arthur replied, eyes flickering to the door.

The first knight's gaze turned back to him, "Messengers place him not moments away." Lancelot said quietly, his dark eyes flashing as the other knights entered the hall. It was not hard to notice that each carried at least one of their weapons.

When they arrayed themselves about him, Arthur caught the eye of Gawain and the younger man smiled grimly, "Wouldn't want him to get the idea that he was safe in here with us would we?" he said.

Galahad looked over at his friend from Arthur's other side and smirked, "He should know we're not exactly tame soldiers."

"Are you sure we cannot just kill him?" Lancelot drawled, one hand one the hilt of his sword as he leaned against a nearby pillar and ignored the disapproving look that his King shot him.

Arthur noted that Rynelle stood behind a nearby pillar, next to Gawain, yet carefully shielded from sight. Perhaps she was right to hide from her cousin. The man was more than distasteful and stirred a cold, hard anger in his heart. It was said that 'Speak of the Devil and he shalt appear' and Arthur watched with trepidatious eyes as the man entered the hall.

Gower was full of a cocky confidence he had seen many times before - in men as they prepared for a battle they thought they could not lose. Arthur let a small, grim smile slip out at that. Many times, those men had been met with an unwelcome surprise, and so would this one today.

"So Arturus Castus; King Arthur," Gower called from across the hall, the slime oozing from his voice as he made his way towards Arthur and his entourage, "I have come, and I ask you, what is it that a woman wants most?"

Arthur stared at Lord Gower for a moment, deciding on his course of action. "A husband who is loving." he said, all too well aware of the reaction he would receive.

"No, that is not it." Gower goaded, "But please, continue to try."

Arthur did not fall into anger, instead assessing the man in front of him calmly before continuing. The answers ranged from 'being given fine jewels' to 'a lusty man' to 'being sweetly wooed by a would be lover'; yet with each answer, Gower shook his head. Arthur continued to list the reasons that had been given by the people of Camelot and the surrounding fiefs; and with each one, the smirk on Gower's face grew wider. His win over the King assured.

"No your highness, none of those are correct." he sneered when the King ended on 'children who were beautiful', "It seems that I have won this, our little game-"

"Not quite yet Gower." Arthur snapped, his blue eyes cold, "I have one more. The answer is sovereignty - the ability to rule themselves and make their own decisions - with or without a husband. Then they will be happy."

Arthur watched as all the blood seemed to drain from Gower's face; only for it to return once more; becoming red with fury. "Who has told you this?" the man hissed, his voice cracking in rage at the knowledge he had been beaten.

• • •

Rynelle felt a dark delight as King Arthur tempted and puffed up her cousin. Cementing the other man's impression that he was to win this sick little game he had devised - with the riddle her own mother had passed on to them. When Arthur gave the answer, the correct answer, Gawain looked over at her in surprise. Realising for the first time that the answer he had given her, had indeed been the correct one. Rynelle couldn't help the smile that spread across her face, taking a deep breath, she stepped from behind the pillar silently and moved beside her husband.

Gower still had his eyes fixed on the king as his face transitioned from white to purple. "Who has told you this?" he hissed, casting his eyes furiously over Arthur's entourage. Brown eyes met bright green, and brown widened in shock.

"You!" Gower croaked out, the shock evident on his face for only a few seconds before he wiped it clean and adopted a look of joy. Rynelle could see it though. His eyes gave away his rage. "Sweet cousin! I have looked for you long and hard and finally I have found you." Gower said licking his lips, and opening his arms in a gesture that, had it been any other; one would have mistaken it for a show of kindness, "Come back home now my dear. Are you not glad to see me?"

Rynelle looked contemptuously down her nose at the man who was once her cousin. Of all things, she had not expected him to play this act, "You do not honestly believe that I would follow you? After all you have done? No I am not glad to see you and I never wish to set sight on you again." she said coldly. Rynelle felt as if her heart had been covered in plates of armour, he could not hurt her again. She would not let him. "Do not try to parley with me. You heard His Majesty, crawl back to the hole you wormed out of Gower."

Rynelle felt Gawain's gaze flicker to her in surprise, but her eyes never left the blonde man opposite her. She watched as Gower's face turned from simpering to furious and he made as if to stalk towards her. Before she could move, Gawain stepped in front of her, pulling his axes from his belt as he moved.

"Do not even consider it." he snarled and the sound rumbled through her, causing the hairs on her arms to rise. For the first time, Rynelle saw the dangerous warrior her husband truly was - his teeth bared in rage and entire body tensed to strike; yet she was not afraid. Instead, she felt a rush of love for this lion of a man.

Taking a deep breath, Rynelle stepped forward, placing a soothing hand on Gawain's arm as she went, "There is nothing for you here Gower. You have lost, this kingdom will continue to prosper under King Arthur's rule, I will not be coming with you and I think it is time you accept that." she said steadily, staring her once-cousin straight in the eye, "Leave now, before you regret any decision you might make. Do not act foolishly."

Gower just stood there a moment, his jaw tensed and his eyes burning hate. Rynelle could see the vein at his temple throbbing as it normally did when he was full of anger, when he turned and stalked from the room, his guards following. As soon as he disappeared, Rynelle let out the breath she didn't even know she'd been holding. A comforting pair of arms slid about her waist, and she felt Gawains nose at her ear.

"You truly are amazing." he said, lips brushing against her temple as he nuzzled into her hair, "And here I always thought you were a little mouse - a lioness more like."

Rynelle smiled and rested her head against her knight's, "A mouse can be brave when the need calls if you recall my stories, yet a lioness must be brave always." she teased, "I would rather the mouse; far less posturing involved."

Gawain laughed out loud as the pair turned to their king and friends. As the others congratulated and praised her words, Rynelle sought the gaze of her king. Arthur caught her eye, and gave a small nod. She had finally earned his respect, and a great feeling of contentment washed over her. Quickly, she pushed the niggling feeling that all was not over out of her mind as Arthur called for ale and wine in celebration. She would not allow any more dark thoughts this night.

• • •

Cold brown eyes stared out at the amassed army that littered the clearing like pale, dully shining stones. The men at arms had stood far clear of their leader when he returned from his treaty with the usurper king Arthur. All could see the rage that emanated from him, and noted it warily. Too many had experienced the wrath of the Lord Gower and did not envy those that had ignited his fury so now.

* * *

**A/N:** OOOOO suspense...let' see what happens next shall we? ;)


	19. What You Fear The Most

**A/N:** Hello everyone! So, when I was writing this chapter, I felt the need to do some research and explain the ages of the knights (I was albeit very bored). See, the Authors Notes at the bottom if you're interested :)

If anyone remembers the 'Song of Exile' from the movie - I found a cover of it on youtube...not only is it a full length song instead of the snippet from the movie, but the singer is excellent. Simply type '_We Will Go Home - Song of Exile - King Arthur Movie (2004) COVER with Lyrics_' into youtube and it should be the first one that comes up. I listened to this on repeat for so long I've spent the last few days humming the tune. :P

**Pingtunglong:** HAHAHAA, excellent question...which I have NO idea of the answer to! If you ever find out, feel free to tell me. Lovely long review thank you. It is greatly appreciated :) I know, it seems that it was only when monotheistic religions slowly came to predominance that the importance of the mother-goddess really went out the window and women slowly had a less and less respected status, (not that there's anything wrong with monotheism - it's just a fact). Jean M. Auel is one author that really shows the importance of the mother-goddess in very early society (although she IS working from the perspective of pre-history cavemen). Hahaha never thought of it like that, but I always knew there was a reason I liked elephants so much ;) Well...you may get your wish...but we shall see! :)

Thank you so much to all my reviewers! (Very long A/N today!)

Remember to Read, Review, Follow, Favourite and Most Importantly - ENJOY! :)

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XVIII.

Light filtered through the treetops; patterning the forest floor in an array of golds, browns and greens. The many shades of light flowed in endless streams over the two Woads that padded through the undergrowth, making them almost seem to become one with the forest.

They moved forward several paces, one several steps behind the other, before stopping. The taller of the two, his eyes and hair dark like the earth; turned back to his younger female companion and jerked his head in the direction they were going. Casting her eyes about her quickly, assessing her surroundings for danger, she nodded and moved ahead.

"Iestyn, nid wyf yn hoffi hyn ... mae'n teimlo anghywir." The red-headed female scout whispered to her partner as she passed, her blue eyes worried, "Ble mae'r adar? Gallaf glywed dim byd..."

"Distawrwydd Eseld, barhau i symud." her partner hissed a reply, before following at her heel.

It was only a few hundred meters later that they found their target. There, amidst the trees lay the burnt out remains of a small dwelling. Her heart heavy, Eseld turned to the other scout, "Byddaf yn mynd a'i harchwilio-"

"Na, aros lle rydych chi." Iestyn cut her off sharply, "Byddaf yn mynd." With that, he tentatively slunk towards the once-building. From the depths of the trees, Eseld watched the woods behind him; ready to warn her partner of any oncoming attack. Once he reached the building, Iestyn searched for evidence, it was when he turned back towards her, and made the simple gesture - a hand across the throat - that she knew the unwanted answer.

Eseld spat on the ground in disgust. Even still, in these times of supposed peace, her people continued to be murdered; and yet, here she was performing a duty for her Queen. Suddenly, it was only for the fleetest of seconds, she caught movement from the corner of her eye. Alarmed, Eseld turned just in time to see a group of five soldiers filter into the trees on the far side of the clearing. Terrified for her partner, Eseld put her fingers to her lips and let out the bird whistle - sharp and shrill - that signified danger. Immediate danger.

Iestyn turned just in time to see the soldiers before a thick black arrow embedded itself in his chest. For Eseld, time slowed. All she could see was the man, who had taught her almost everything she had needed to know in order to become a scout, fall to the ground. Dead.

A moment later, the cold feeling of white-hot rage overcame her, and she strung her bow in one swift move. Deftly, Eseld picked the two soldiers with crossbows - one of whom had been her mentor's killer, and shot them in quick succession.

The hard vengeful part of her took delight in the way the others fled before her wrath. As they ran, she was able to pick off another, before they were well out of range. _Cowards_ she thought bitterly, as she ran towards Iestyn.

When Eseld reached him, she knew there was nothing that could be done, there was too much blood. Miraculously he was still breathing, and his eyes flickered to hers for one second. "Dilynwch eu." Iestyn gasped out, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth; before his eyes flickered shut and he drew his last breath.

Eseld closed her eyes, muttering a prayer to the goddess for the man who had been her teacher. Silently, she got to her feet and slipped through the forest following the tracks the soldiers had left behind in their flight. Iestyn had not been one for crying, and as such she would not weep for him. He had died doing what he thought right, and it had been a good death. She could only hope for one the same.

Night had almost fallen by the time Eseld found the source of the tracks, and what she saw, made her heart stop. The soldiers footprints had lead her straight back to the road - a road now covered in the marks of hundreds of soldiers, now several hours ahead of her.

Gritting her teeth, Eseld gripped her bow tighter and slipped back into the trees. She and Iestyn had been sent on this scouting mission for a completely different reason, but now she had evidence that a large army was amassed and heading straight for Caer-Legions. And her Queen. She had lost too many hours already, and the army was well ahead of her. There would be no breaks on the way back, she had far to go, and little time to get there. War was upon them.

• • •

Rynelle couldn't help but smile to herself as she walked about the markets. There was an overwhelming sense of calm that had flowed into life at Camelot, now that the threat of Gower had been vanquished. She thought back on the look Gawain had given her, afterwards. A look so filled with love it took her breath away.

Gawain had whispered to her then, that there was nothing more that he wished for in that moment, than a child of theirs. If he had that, he would be the happiest man in the world. Later, he had proved how much he meant his words with great enthusiasm. Rynelle still blushed at the thought. But as she perused the goods every store had to offer, she could almost see their child running about before her. A little boy, the spitting image of his father.

It was when Rynelle passed the small vendor's stall featuring a collection of weapons, straight from the blacksmith, that her mood changed. The bad feeling that not all had been resolved with Gower was still seated in the pit of her stomach, and it grew with every day. She wanted the world that any child of Gawain's was born into, to be a safe one.

Suddenly, the bright gleam of a blade caught her eye, and Rynelle turned once more to study the vendors wears. One knife in particular had captured attention. It was only small - Gawain would most probably laugh and call it a toothpick if he saw it; but it was finely crafted and well sharpened.

"I'll take that please Sir." Rynelle said to the vendor, pointing to the dagger and pulling the necessary coins from the pouch at her side.

The vendor - an older man, smiled teasingly at Rynelle as he handed her her purchase, "Any man be'er watch ou' - wha' with such a pretty Lady buyin' such things." he said, winking at her mischeviously, "Yer man be'er be careful."

Rynelle laughed and thanked him, before beginning the walk back up into the inner keep. The little dagger tucked safely into her belt.

• • •

It was in the evening, on the sixth day after Gower had left the walls of Caer-Legions that the news came. The King and Queen, and others of the court were seated at the round table. Rynelle had just gone to help Vanora with her children at a nearby bench, when the doors into the great hall slammed open.

The Sarmatian knights were at their feet in an instant, the sound of swords slithering from scabbards echoing off the stone walls. Rynelle could feel the unease filtering through the room. The Woad woman that entered however, ignored the knights and strode towards the Queen. She was tall and willowy, Rynelle noticed, with dark red hair that fell down her back in tangles, feathers and other beads woven in - the exhaustion was evident in the way she carried herself. The most striking thing about her, was the blue paint that adorned her face in uneven lines - giving her a savage quality.

Suddenly worried, Rynelle left Vanora and slipped across the room to Gawain's side. The frown on the Woad's face did not bode well, and she felt her heart sink. If this was indeed one of the scouts sent to find Neamhain, then the old woman was dead, she could feel it and her heart grieved for the loss of the first person in a long time who had been kind to her.

Rynelle watched as the Woad bowed to the King and Queen before turning to Guinevere and saying something sharply in the tongue that all her people spoke. "What is she saying?" Rynelle whispered to the tawny haired man beside her.

"I have no idea." Gawain replied quietly, his eyes worried, "But I have a feeling it does not bode well."

The Woad woman finished her story - whatever it was, and stepped back. Desperately, Rynelle watched as the dark expression on Guinevere's face grew even stormier. Immediately, the Queen turned to face Arthur, "Eseld tells me that on the scouting mission to find Rynelle's friend, Eseld and her partner were attacked by a group of soldiers. Her partner was killed." Guinevere said, loud enough for all to hear. "She says she followed the soldiers and found an army. Hundreds of men, all serving under Gower. They are coming towards Camelot and will be here within a matter of days."

Rynelle felt all the blood drain from her face. Inwardly, she cursed herself, for thinking that she might have been free from the shadow of her cousin at last. She felt, rather than saw Gawain shift closer to her, and dimly, she registered another person entering the conversation.

"How does she know that they come here?" Lancelot said, scowling at the Woad girl. "Could they not be Gower's army travelling back to their homes as he has lost his little riddle?"

Eseld, although it seemed she could not speak their language, obviously caught the meaning behind his words and snarled at the first knight, letting off an emotive round of speech. Rynelle would have laughed at the put-out look on Lancelot's face had the situation not been so dire.

"Eseld says she is an experienced tracker," Guinevere replied, one dainty eyebrow arched at the dark-haired man, "and not only that, she followed the army - who are using the main road from Caer-Sallog to here. Also, she says, the fact that the footprints were facing in this direction are another likely indicator."

Silence once again permeated the Great Hall, even the few children sitting in the corner with their mother - Vanora, were quiet. It was Arthur who finally spoke up, his deep voice echoing about the room. "I think it is time we call a council." he said, his grey eyes stony as his gaze flickered to each knight in turn. "It seems, no matter how we wish it otherwise, that war is upon us."

Rynelle shivered when his eyes met hers. It seemed, that everything she had dreaded most, was finally coming true.

* * *

**A/N: **The look I envisaged for Eseld is more like the woman Etain from the movie Centurion (2010) - slightly grittier. See my profile for a pic. And yes, Eseld is someone special - I thought to introduce her here. Can anyone guess? ;) FYI 3 more chapters after this (Including epilogue) - if it could reach 100 reviews by the end, it would make my day and I'd love you all immensely :D (of course, more than I already do ;) )

_Translation(s):_

**Iestyn, nid wyf yn hoffi hyn ... mae'n teimlo anghywir:** Iestyn, I do not like this ... it feels wrong.

**Ble mae'r adar? Gallaf glywed dim byd...:** Where are the birds? I can hear nothing...

**Distawrwydd Eseld, barhau i symud:** Silence Eseld, keep moving.

**Byddaf yn mynd a'i harchwilio:** I will go and inspect it.

**Na, aros lle rydych chi. Byddaf yn mynd:** No, stay where you are. I will go.

**Dilynwch eu:** Follow them

_Ages:_

At the **Battle of Badon Hil**l I am surmising their ages at- **Arthur**: 28; **Lancelot**: 27; **Gawain:** 25; **Galahad**: 23; **Tristan:** 30; and **Bors:** 32.

Therefore, **Four Years After Badon Hill**, they would be at- **Arthur:** 32; **Lancelot:** 31; **Gawain:** 29; **Galahad:** 27; **Tristan:** 34; and **Bors:** 36.

I realise this may have no actual relevance to the film-makers vision, but I wanted to do a little explaining for my reasoning anyway. (For example; Ray Winstone aka Bors was actually 47 when King Arthur was filmed, and Hugh Dancy aka Galahad was 29 - as you can see, the ages don't match up.) There are two reasons for my surmising.

_1. Actors seem to tend to play people who are younger than them in reality_. Prime example Mia Wasikowska in Jane Eyre (2011) - a then twenty-two year old portraying an eighteen year old.

_2._ Also, after a fair amount of research, I found that _men living in this time tended to have a life expectancy of 45 (at maximum)._ Hence, Ray being 47...really was not going to work. So, keeping to 'who looked older than who', I randomly took pot luck (educated) guesses. Also, this means that when they were taken from their families (assuming they were all taken in the same year and not transfered from one regiment to another) the ages would have been as follows- **Arthur**: 14; **Lancelot**: 13; **Gawain:** 11; **Galahad**: 9; **Tristan:** 15; and **Bors:** 17. There are several holes in this theory as 15 and 17 are not particularly 'young' ages for the fourth century; however, it is the closest I could come to a plausible answer.


	20. Acceptance

**A/N:** Quite a long chapter this one, I was so happy (I finished the story!) I thought I'd post early and let you just get along with the reading! (Note: The next chapter is just as long as this one)

Thanks to **Donna Lynn** and all those that reviewed! Your support is much appreciated :)

Remember to Read, Review, Follow, Favourite and Most Importantly - ENJOY! :)

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IXX.

As Arthur pulled his leather breastplate over his head, he couldn't help the sigh that escaped him. Slim hands pulled the fastenings tight at his side, and he turned to look down at his Queen. Somehow she had come up behind him without his noticing, a skill it seemed many of her people possessed.

The last four, nearly five, years he had lived, with her at his side, had shown Arthur many things. Where he was calm and level headed, she was passionate; where he thought about issues for long periods of time, occasionally with no end result, she was tenacious and made decisions on the spot. Guinevere was his opposite, and yet his equal. He still asked God, how, after all that he had done - all the lives he had taken throughout his career - how He had still found the grace to bestow such a woman on him; he thanked God for Guinevere every day.

Gradually, she helped Arthur pull the rest of his light armour on, the two of them standing in silence as her quick hands moved over him. It was only when Guinevere was done, that she slipped her hand into his. She did not speak, simply reached up on her tips of her toes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Slowly, and together, they stepped into the corridor and began their way to the Great Hall. Sometimes, Arthur mused as they stepped into the chambers that would hold the council of war; it was the small moments that would not seem like much to the outward eye, that posed the greatest significance.

• • •

Rynelle sat on a bench close to the doors of the Great Hall. She had stood there and watched as one by one, the knights entered. Tristan had been the first, no doubt there early to find the darkest corner to sit and watch. Lancelot was not far behind, and Bors was hot on his heels. The oldest knight had given the toddler he was carrying in his arms (Number eleven if she was right) to Vanora, beside him.

Rynelle averted her gaze, she had never found it polite to watch others say their goodbyes. Bors was not going far, only into the next room, but to her, it felt so much more and it made her heart ache. Gawain had left her at the doors not five minutes before, to go and find Galahad, but he had still not returned. Yet here, (Rynelle could see them coming from the passageway to the right) was Kalyna and her lover...who seemed to be arguing rather animatedly as they approached.

"No! That is final. I will not listen to this any longer." Rynelle heard Galahad say darkly, and with that he jerked away from Kalyna and stormed into the Great Hall. As soon as she moved to comfort her seemingly distraught friend, Gawain chose that exact moment to appear, striding quickly over to her.

Momentarily forgetting about Kalyna and Galahad's problems for a moment, Rynelle focused on her husband, "It seems I am too slow for the pup." Gawain said teasingly, but she could see the strain at the edges of his smile.

Rynelle swallowed her anxiety and smiled brightly, "Yes, now hurry up and get in there," she chided, smoothing the fabric of his tunic down, "Or they'll start without you."

Gently, Gawain took the hand that was on his chest and pressed Rynelle's fingers to his lips. "Everything will be alright." he said softly, his eyes boring into hers "You will see." With that, he leaned down and gave her a fleeting kiss, his lips brushing against her like the touch of a butterfly. Then he was gone, disappeared into the war council.

Rynelle stared after him for a moment, before turning back to where Kalyna had been a moment before. But the brown haired woman was nowhere in sight. Frowning, Rynelle set off down the hall in search of her friend. She didn't have far to go - Kalyna was out on the practice courts, angrily shooting arrows into one of the targets.

Sighing, Rynelle made her way over the fence and towards the older woman. "I have a feeling that whatever troubles you has nothing to do with that target." she called, still a safe distance away from temperamental Sarmatian women. "Tell me what is wrong."

Another arrow and another buried itself in the target, and Rynelle began to think that she was not going to get an answer. "What is wrong is that Galahad seems to believe he can just RUN my life." Kalyna snarled, "That I can not decide my fate for myself. Well he is going to have to learn that I am not just some floozy to be commanded about!"

Rynelle waited patiently for the tirade to finish before replying, "What did he say?" she said, honestly curious (although she WAS doing this for Kalyna's benefit of course). Galahad really did not seem like the commanding type. In the time she had known him, he seemed more like a quiet, gentle man, forced into knighthood; rather than a person who enjoyed it's power and privileges.

"That I am not going with him. Oh yes he was quite adamant about the fact - he forbade it!" Kalyna growled, her wild brown hair swinging about her shoulders, "Forbade it! Who does he think he is?! Who does he think I am?! I am not some meek, incompetent Roman woman who would not know which end of a sword to hold-"

Rynelle arched her eyebrow and pursed her lips at her friend, not particularly impressed where the topic was going, fortunately Kalyna seemed to realise the implications of what she was saying and cut herself off, glancing over at her, rather abashed.

Rynelle thought for a moment before speaking, "I hope you are not telling me that you were actually considering going into battle five months pregnant?" she said softly. and when the older woman opened her mouth to answer, she cut her off, "- Irrespective of whether or not your people have done so for centuries. Because if you are thinking of doing such a thing, I agree with Galahad - it is mad. How do you think he will be able to concentrate on keeping himself alive if he is constantly worried about you and the child you carry?"

All the fire and righteous indignation seemed to die in the Sarmatian woman then, "I have been such a fool." she whispered, "You are right, and I know what he says is the right thing to do - I would never want to hurt our baby...I don't even know why I suggested going...it's just...the last time..." Kalyna let out a small strangled sob from the base of her throat, "If I am not there, I cannot protect him. If I lose him Rynelle I-"

"Stop this righ' now." Vanora said cuttingly, appearing out of nowhere beside them; toddler in one arm and other hand on her hips, "Don' go blubbering around - tha won' do no-one any good! I understan' you're topsy turvy at th' momen' with the baby an' all but it's no excuse!"

Kaylna sniffled and quailed a little under the older redhead's glare. "You are right. I am being foolish," she muttered and visibly hardened, "I need to speak to him."

Vanora softened a little at that, "Well c'mon then an' let's be off wi' yeh now." she said gruffly, "In fact we best see they're no' all finish'd already - ge' them some supper."

• • •

"We've 'ad worse odds before." Bors commented unsurely. Over the years, Gawain had come to notice the older man was always blunter when he wasn't happy, and then, once he was resigned to his fate, the optimism would kick in. Like most of them really. It was funny what acceptance did to a man's sense of humor.

This war council was larger than the last that had been held; the night before the Great Battle at Badon Hill (as it had become known amongst the villagers across the Isle of Britton). The Woad Merlin was there, with several other Chiefs of his people - now Arthur's people as well. It was if the blue man knew what was about to happen and suddenly appeared on their very doorstep, before they had even sent a messenger out.

"But it would be better if we had more men." Galahad argued. Gawain had known his friend for a long time - their tribes had often traded with one another and when the Romans had come, they had been taken together. He always knew when something was troubling the young man, and something was definitely wrong with him now.

Gawain frowned at the notched and worn wood of the table in front of where he sat. "Arthur, could you not call for aid?" he mused, his tawny eyebrows constricting, "That Roman Lord Yvain and his son Erec would come. From what I could see when I was last there, they have at least three-hundred men at their disposal, and not in reserve."

The King frowned as he considered the suggestion. "Cei, and his people from the North, will also come." Merlin spoke up, his odd-coloured eyes glancing about the room. Gawain nodded, since the battle at Badon Hill four years ago, many of the Woad people had come to respect Arthur's and Cei was one such Woad.

Lancelot growled, "There is still not enough time! From what your scout said, Gower's army is nearly on our doorstep." he said, running a hand through his black curls as he nodded in the direction of the red-headed woman that stood near the side of Merlin's people, "How will they reach us in time?"

It was another man, behind Merlin that spoke up, "I am Kaherdin, and I speak for myself and my sister Eseld." he said calmly, stepping up beside the older Woad. Gawain studied the man quietly - he was definitely a warrior of some sort. The scars of past battles adorned Kaherdin's arms just as they adorned his own. "Gower will reach Caer-Legions in no more than four days. As your army stands, there are not enough men. I will be able to reach Cei within two days, and my sister, reach Yvain and Erec in the same amount of time, but there is no guarantee that he and his men will be able to return in time to aid you."

Arthur's eyes narrowed as he considered the other man's logic. "What are you suggesting then?" he said, grey eyes intent.

Kaherdin looked to the Druid Merlin before replying, "If it be your wish. We will send messages to your allies in the North and East; and we will do all that we can to ensure that they reach you in time." he said, and his red-headed sister stepped up beside him, "What you do with the army you have now, it is not my place to say. But we will help you in any way we are able."

"Why would you help us?" Arthur asked quietly, "I know not all of your people feel the same love for me, or the people of Camelot. To many, we are simply impostors, new tyrants to replace the old. So tell me why."

Kaherdin frowned and looked down, as if considering what to say, before meeting the King's eyes again. "We are tired of a land where all are at war with each other. There is no hope for any of our people if we continue along this path." he said confidently, "You showed us, four years ago, that if we work as one, we will succeed. Since then you have shown yourself to be firm, yet compassionate. You have even taken one of our own people as your wife. We believe that you will be good for this land, and that is why we would help you."

Gawain watched as the King and other knights considered this man's words. Finally, Arthur nodded, "I value your trust in me." he said, "Go now and send messages to Cei, Yvain and Erec; but also send a message to Lord Lionel and Sagramore in the West. They too, have sworn their allegiance to Britton and myself. Tell them, that we are at war."

• • •

Three days later, it seemed that the small world of Caer-legions had exploded into chaos and panic. The stables and armoury was a hive of activity, the lower keep was filled with fathers and husbands saying goodbye to their families and women left standing on their doorsteps alone.

Rynelle, Vanora (with all her children in tow) and Kalyna all waited in the courtyard of the inner keep for their men to emerge from the last council, before the army made their way out. For the past three days, in the mornings she would awaken to find Gawain's side of the bed empty, and him out in the practice courts training. When she went to sleep, he would still be with Arthur, the other knights and Merlin in counsel.

It was only on the third night that he came back to her early, citing that Arthur had sent all the knights back to their families (or left to their own devices) for the night. Considering they had been awake until the early hours of that morning; how on earth he was going to have enough energy to get through the day was completely beyond her.

Arthur was the first to come out - the metal of his armour glinting dully in the sun. He walked straight out to his stallion Hengroen, inclining his head respectfully to the three women as he strode past them. Rynelle looked back to see Guinevere just within the doors. Gawain had told her, the night before, that the Queen had decided she would be the one to stay behind and command those left at Camelot.

If the battle turned for the worse, the gates to the city would close, and those inside would take up arms - but only if the walls were breached. Guinevere had already overseen the movement of livestock and provisions into the outer keeps from the villages that stood outside the castle walls; and she would continue to oversee things while Arthur was with the army.

If Gower and his army did arrive at their gates, they would have enough provisions to last for several months, and there was no doubt, that if their allies did not arrive in time to assist Arthur, they would arrive in time to provide reinforcements to Camelot itself.

A morbid thought, but a realistic one. Rynelle couldn't quite comprehend how Guinevere - being the warrior that she was - could stay behind, and look so composed. When anyone who knew her, also knew that there was nothing she wanted more that to be out there herself, fighting alongside her husband. It was then that she truly realised how strong Camelot's Queen truly was.

Slowly, the knights emerged from the doors. Bors went straight to Vanora and his sproglets - giving them excellent advice on how to behave whilst he was away. Tristan nodded to Rynelle as he passed, and Lancelot, ever the charmer, reached down and pressed an over-embellished kiss to her knuckles.

When she looked over - from what Rynelle could see, Galahad and Kalyna had overcome their fight and were quite intensely saying goodbye. The youngest knight smiled at her as he passed and mounted his horse. Quietly, she wished him all the luck in the world, before turning back to finally see Gawain coming towards her.

"I will look after him." Gawain said gruffly to Kalyna as he passed, and the older woman nodded mutely.

The Sarmatian woman gave him a small smile, squeezing his arm in an appreciative gesture. "Thankyou." she whispered. "Take care for yourself also, brother."

When Gawain turned, Rynelle was waiting for him by Gringolet, her face stony, yet eyes full of unspoken fear and worry. "I have something for you." she said softly, pulling the dagger she had bought from her belt. "I know it is hardly useful, but I want you to take it with you into battle. From me, as protection and good luck."

Gawain covered her slim hands with his calloused, large ones took the knife, studying it for a moment, before slipping it into the leather that covered the armour on his abdomen. "I wish that somehow I could have stopped this from happening." Rynelle whispered softly, her eyelashes fluttering closed, then back open once more, "But all I can say now, is come back to me. I love you, and life would not be worth living without you."

With that he kissed her, like he had never kissed her before. A kiss filled with the knowledge that he might never return from this battle. A kiss filled with the depth of his love for her; and one that made the parting even more bittersweet.

A single crystal tear - the first that she had shed, ran down Rynelle's cheek as Gawain, Arthur and the rest of the knights - their small army behind; rode out to near-certain death. Her eyes never left their party until they passed over the hill, and out of sight.

* * *

**A/N: **

If you're interested - I found an essay taken from '**King Arthur: Full Production Notes**' where the actors talk about their characters I thought it was both fun to read, and a really good insight on character. If you would like the site url - please PM me. It goes into further detail about the script, costumes, which character has which specific weapon and sets. :)

**Lancelot/Ioan Gruffudd:**"Lancelot doesn't know anything else except being trained to be a killer, he is incredibly loyal, he's passionate and arrogant and cocky. He knows that he is incredibly skillful with his swords. I also believe that he is honest, he does show fear."

**Clive Owen (Arthur) about Lancelot:** "Lancelot is Arthur's knight of knights, and closer to Arthur than any of the others. If Arthur is always thinking about the bigger picture, his idealistic view of the way the world could be, Lancelot is the grounded one, the realist, always questioning Arthur"

**Bors/Ray Winstone:** "His specialty is hand-to-hand combat, he is down and dirty and all that fancy swordplay is really his thing. He fights with his axe and his fists. He likes getting in there but he is getting a bit old. He is slowing up a bit, a lot like me and he hurts a lot more. Bors could be kind of a big shot in his own town."

**Tristan/Mads Mikkelston:** "Tristan is a lone wolf, he's the scout so that means he spends a lot of time by himself, with just his hawk as company. He doesn't believe in any god. He likes killing; he finds it interesting, and that is probably why some of the other knights find him a little disturbing. He is almost psychopathic, but you have that in almost every war. When you have spent 20 years of your life killing, I don't think you're that noble any more. He would care about the other people in his group, but not that much. He would care about the fight first of all."

**Galahad/Hugh Dancy:** "Galahad is the youngest and the most passionate about returning home as he remembers it the clearest: it is still fresh in his heart. He probably doesn't have the same sense of family, of belonging to the group that the older guys like Bors would have. Bors has a family of his own in England and for Galahad that is a betrayal of his dream of returning home, a dream that he has nurtured in order to survive the situation that he is in."

**Gawain/Joel Edgerton****:** "When Gawain hits the battlefield he's keen to take as many lives as possible and if he dies that's all right too, the one piece of research that came to me, via another source, is that Gawain historically had two brothers. In my own imaginings I had the idea that both of those brothers had died on the battlefield, so that the lives that I am taking are the payback for them and if I die on the battlefield I'll be with them. So there's a certain acceptance of his destiny."

Annnnd just for fun (cause he's not in this story...as he died :P) **Dagone****t/Ray Stevenson:** "Dagonet comes from the old order of knights, he knows that Arthur is the future; without him as a leader, they would just be a band of mercenaries. Dagonet is a quiet observer of things and he has a sense of place and time. He knows that we are reaching a major fulcrum in history but doesn't know what it is. He is someone who believes more in action than dialogue. Dagonet is a consummate warrior even down to the clothes he wears. You get hold of someone's face and can smash it into his studded jacket, which he uses to great effect as a close-quarter weapon."


	21. Against The Dark

**A/N:** Here it is! The last chapter before the epilogue! I hope you like it - CRUNCH TIME PEOPLE! ;)

Thanks a million to Happyface8898 for favouriting - Much appreciated! :)

Remember to Read, Review, Follow, Favourite and Most Importantly - ENJOY! :)

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XX.

They had been riding for three hours, and Gawain had begun the pity the infantry, travelling on foot. Arthur of course, had insisted on a number of breaks to keep them and the horses fresh, but even still, he did not envy them.

"'Ow much further deh we 'ave teh go?" Bors complained lightheartedly, "Me arse is killin' me!"

Arthur smiled grimly at his men, "Not far, my friends, not far." he said, and each knight fell into silence, noting the double meaning to his words.

"Arthur, if what Merlin's scouts said is true, they outnumber us three to one!" Lancelot spoke up quietly, just loud enough for Arthur and the other knights to hear, his dark eyes flashing. He would never overtly challenge his commander in public, and so kept his voice low.

King Arthur studied his second in command for a moment, "We have faced, fought and won against such odds before, Lancelot." he replied calmly.

"Lancelot is right Arthur. We could have fought them closer to Camelot." Galahad added softly. "From within the castle we would have had the upper hand."

Arthur sighed, "Would you really have wished to engage them at Camelot? Where your families are? They cannot flee to safety in the same way they did at Badon Hill." he replied, looking around at his knights. Still Gawain said nothing. "To wait Gower out would not necessarily mean we would win."

"But it would mean we could think longer about this - how best to protect our people." Galahad pressed. Gawain finally came to the realisation that his friend's concern for Kalyna and their unborn child was what made him continue with this point, "We do not even know, Gower may have decided he would not attack for several weeks! He might have decided to return to his fief-"

"No Galahad, he would not have." Gawain finally spoke up, looking his brother in arms directly in the eyes, "You and I both know that. No man who wishes to return home goes out of his way to march back towards the city he had sworn to raze to the ground."

Galahad scowled, but remained silent. Gawain did not fault him for not wanting to fight this war, finding something to live for, something to come home to, changed things. "Enough of this." Tristan cut in, "What is done is done. Take what you are given."

Lancelot sighed, relaxing back into his saddle, "Perhaps I should retire after this." he smiled sourly, "Killing does not quite feel the same as it did once before."

Bors guffawed, "Wha'? Yeh'd wanna retire? Lancey-boy's got'n old!" he laughed, "Ne'er though' I'd see th' day!"

Lancelot's eyes narrowed in annoyance, but he soon smiled, a sickly sweet smile that spoke volumes of mischievous plans, "Oh yes Bors. No more fighting, that leaves me a whole lot more time to spend wooing that lovely red-head of yours whilst you are off at war."

"Eh!" Bors growled, pointing one stubby finger threateningly in the younger man's direction. Just before he was about to let out another tirade, Tristan interjected.

"Quiet!" The hawk-man snapped, his dark eyes looking sharply ahead, his head cocked as if listening to something. Suddenly, he turned his horse and rode off into the forest alongside them. Arthur halted and signaled for the rest of the army to stop. Several bated moments later, Tristan returned, replacing two, slightly bloodied arrows in his quiver as he stopped at the head of the column. "They are over that rise."

Gawain took a deep breath. All lightness had dissipated, and he knew from experience that the other knights were similarly preparing themselves for the task ahead.

"My soldiers! We go into battle today not knowing the outcome." Arthur said, his voice rising washing over the army before him, "We can only know that we few have stood here, on the brink. Ready to defend our homes and loved ones. So, let us fight! Fight for your families, your wives, your children! Fight for me! For us! For Camelot!"

With that, he wheeled his stallion Hengroen and led the first charge down into Gower's army. To an unknowing eye, such an onslaught might seem unthinking and rash, yet a more calculating one would notice the way archers stood behind, sending volleys into Gower's unsuspecting army. As Gawain rode with the others into the fray, he let all thoughts fade from his mind until there was only feeling and instinct.

Arthur and his knights, one battalion of infantry behind them ran head-on into the fray. Gower's forces were surprised, and quickly scrambled to attention, but for many they were not fast enough. As soon as Arthur's forces smashed into the King's ranks, the archers and infantry on top of the rise split, running forwards, half to the left and half to the right; flanking Gower's army.

Although Gawain knew what was supposed to be happening, he saw none of it. Gringolet plunged forward, knocking men flying as Gawain swept his sword to either side, dealing killing blows with each strike.

He saw a man reach up and pull Galahad from his horse, and frantically made his way over to his friend. He saw the sword raise, and let his axe fly, watching as it embedded itself in the man's back, just before he could deal the killing blow.

In one swift move, he had dismounted and pulled Galahad up by the arm. "You can see why I like bows better," the younger knight said with weak humor as he cut down a nearby soldier, "No had-to-hand fighting."

Gawain merely grunted in reply, and heaved against the man he was fighting, breaking their sword to sword power struggle and gutting him in one cut. Slowly however, they were being pushed closer and closer together, the number of soldiers from Gower's army was beginning to overwhelm them. The infantry that had originally flanked the rogue Lord's army, had been absorbed into the crush of fighting bodies, and it soon became clear that the people of Caer-Legions were steadily and quickly losing ground.

Slowly but surely, Gawain began to tire. At some point, he had lost Galahad, and he could only just see Tristan fighting somewhere to his right, coldly and calmly like he always did - with complete unfeeling.

They had been fighting for hours, and he could see that they were being overwhelmed. For every one of them, there were five of Gower's men. At some point, he had lost his mace - stuck in the armour of some (now very dead) soldier. Grimly, Gawain resigned himself to his fate and fixed an image of Rynelle firmly in his mind. He had known, long ago, that he would die on the battlefields - just like his brothers had; and he would be damned if the last thing he saw would be the sight of death and blood.

As he blocked and parried, something caught his eye - yellow horse hair protruding from a Roman-style helmet. The soldier turned towards him, and Gawain snarled. Gower. Viciously, he cut down the man he was currently fighting and stalked towards the man he hated most.

Somehow, it was as if Gower could sense him coming, and the man turned to face him, killing one of Arthurs soldiers at his feet (Gawain knew that particular man, he was a baker, and had three children) "Ahhhh, Sir Gawain, I was hoping to come across you." Gower said, his voice arrogant and taunting, as he pointed the sword in his direction, "It seems you and your hawk-friend are responsible for the death of a number of my soldiers."

Gawain assessed him calmly, "I have not come to engage in small-talk Gower," he said, eyes narrowing, "I am here to kill you." And with that, he lunged at him,

They cut at each other with ferocity, before the younger man broke away, smiling and panting, "Such hatred! I have been meaning to ask, yet haven't found the time - why are you so protective of my dear cousin?" when he caught the look of disgust on the older man's face, Gower grinned sadistically, putting two and two together, "Oh so she is your little whore now is she? Oh how ironic." he growled, "Moving up the food chain so to speak."

"No, she is not my whore. She is my wife." Gawain replied viciously, enraged that the other man would even talk of Rynelle in the midst of a battle, "And you will keep your tongue between your teeth snake."

Gower's lips twisted into something that could have once been considered a smile, "Oh my. My, my. How sweet. Did your little wife tell you about me then?" when Gawain didn't fall to his bait, Gower continued, "Well you see, I was the one who took her maidenhood - and quite enjoyable it was too-"

With a loud snarl, Gawain lunged, and Gower only just managed to block in time and stop the blow that would have cut his head clean from his body. They exchanged blows and each managed to inflict small cuts on the other, but not the killing blow each desired. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the sound of a horn rang out across the field; and both looked up to see more men on the hill. Gawain vaguely recognised the standard they flew and promptly kicked his opponent in the gut to force him away. It was Sagramore and Lionel. Reinforcements were here. "You see Gower, you cannot win this," Gawain panted, as he stepped back and away in order to catch his breath, "You will never see her again."

Even though he could definitely see Arthur's new, fresh men, charging down into the fray, Gower still smiled maniacally. The man was surely mad,"Oh but I will, I would love to see her again," Gower said cockily, "Run my hands along her smooth, creamy-"

"You will not touch her!" Gawain spat, his blood boiling in his veins, and his hands tightening about his sword.

Gower sneered, "Oh but I will. And when I am done, I will kill her, as I should have years ago." the man sighed, apparently bored with the conversation, "In fact, she should have died along with the rest of her family, like I had planned. No-matter, all will be righted soon."

"She told me her parents died in a fire." Gawain snarled, noticing the slight movement of muscle and spinning out of range of the blow that came for him. "You. You set the fire!"

Gower smiled maniacally, circling once more,"Of course I did. I inherited not only my parents fortune, but hers as well." he licked his lips, "It was quite agreeable for a long time. A worthy enterprise. Richness and luxury during the day, and a delicious plaything for nighttime pleasures-"

With a roar, Gawain lunged at the other man, his sword clashing against the other man's and bearing down on him with all his strength. Like the snake he was, Gower slipped from beneath him and to the side, leaving a stinging gash on Gawain's arm in his wake - somehow managing to find a gap in his armour.

Hissing in pain and annoyance, Gawain turned to meet his opponent, and exchanged blows once more. He could feel himself tiring with every smash of his sword against the younger man's. Just when Gawain thought he had gained the upper hand, Gower locked his sword arm with his, and punched him squarely in the jaw, knocking him to the ground and sending his sword flying. Desperately, Gawain reached for his dagger and turned once more, but it was too late.

With one, slicing blow, Gower flicked his sword up and under his arm, slipping through the unprotected under-parts of his biceps, making Gawain drop the dagger. One downward stroke more, and he had cut through the flesh of Gawain's thigh, causing him to fall to the ground, with a yell of agony.

"The net has fallen and you are trapped knight." Gower laughed, relishing the feel of superiority over his opponent. "It seems the Sarmatian barbarian is not as fearsome as so many thought. I will enjoy killing you. Almost as much as I will enjoy killing my dear sweet little cousin as she screams for mercy."

Gawain had learned long ago, that taunting and baiting your opponent - seemingly dying on the ground, was never a good idea. He had seen friends and enemies both, fall this way. So, from his crouched position on the ground, one hand stemming his bleeding thigh, he looked about for any type of weapon.

Dimly, through Gawain's pain-shrouded mind, he remembered the small dagger Rynelle had given him, tucked securely in the front of his belt. It was small, but it could well mean his last chance. He heard and felt Gower step up behind, and even with his injuries, the Sarmatian knight whirled and struck. One arm holding down Gower's sword arm, the other moving up, pushing the small knife through the small gaps in his armour and straight into his heart.

Gower's mouth opened in shock, and Gawain pulled him closer, so close their faces were almost touching. "I told you, you will not touch her." he growled, pushing the knife deeper, and watching with malicious delight as blood gurgled from the man's mouth, "Not ever again."

With that, he let Gower fall, slumping to the ground, eyes glazed in death. Gawain winced as he got to his feet. None of his injuries were life threatening - only shallow cuts - but that did not mean they were not painful. He would definitely need stitches on his arm and thigh. Wonderful.

Gawain stood over the body of the fallen man, Rynelle's dagger still firmly in his bloody hand. He could feel the sticky, red lifeblood of Gower coat his fingers; and in complete disgust, wiped his blade clean on the other man's leather pants. Limping badly, Gawain hobbled over to where he saw his fellow knights gathering - the survivors of Gower's army offering their arms in surrender. He was more than ready to go home.

• • •

Rynelle watched the returning army from the heights of the inner-keep wall, as the stench of death and blood billowed back over the hill. "They will come back." Kalyna whispered, taking her hand. "They must come back."

Rynelle smiled, there was no doubt in her mind that the older woman said those things more-so to assure herself; but she appreciated it all the same. "I know." she said softly, looking over at her friend, "Galahad has twice as much of a reason to fight now than he ever did before."

The two women turned as they heard the opening of the gate and raced as fast as they were able down into the throng of women, children and families who waited for news of their men. Anxiously, Rynelle searched the faces of those that returned. Some she recognised, and some she did not. Finally, she found the one that she searched for "Gawain!" she shouted, running down the stairs to her Sarmatian knight. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kalyna doing the same with Galahad, and Vanora with Bors, but she paid them no heed. All her attention was on the man with the tawny coloured hair who strode towards her.

When Rynelle reached him, his arms opened, and suddenly, she was locked in his embrace. The metallic smell of blood and sweat invading her nostrils. Gawain's lips claimed hers and she put all of her love worry and joy that he was alright into that one kiss "Rynelle, Rynelle." he whispered her name over and over again like it was a prayer, resting his forehead against hers. Worriedly, Rynelle ran her hands over every inch of skin she could see, checking that he was not harmed.

"I am here, I am alright my love." she whispered, anxiously watching as closed eyes opened to reveal the startling blue that pierced her soul. "I am fine. What happened?"

Gawain gave her another soft kiss before leading her away, hurriedly pulling her by the hand back to their chambers. In all the confusion of the returned war party, someone had already taken Gringolet back to the stables. Rynelle had silently asked Kalyna as she had passed ,if all had returned. A small nod had allayed her fears and so, she turned all her attention to her husband.

Gawain sat on the edge of their bed, not even bothering to remove his weapons or clothes as he did so. Suddenly anxious about what troubled him, Rynelle knelt before him, taking her hands in his and looking up at him pleadingly, "Gawain, please, you must tell me." she whispered, turning his palm up and kissing the callused skin. Gawain studied her silently for a moment before cupping her cheek in his hand, and brushing away a stray hair from her forehead with the other. And then he told her.

"The thought of him doing that to you drove me mad. The very depths of what he told me haunt my mind. Not for myself, but for you." Gawain said softly, looking down at his little mouse. She stared back at him with an undisguised look of horror; eyes shining with unshed tears and shock. "For the knowledge of what this information would do to you. All I can ask is that you do not hate me for telling it to you."

Bright green eyes looked up to blue; softening as they saw the love and concern that burned there. She stared back at him so trustingly... "You think I would hate you for killing the cousin that I have loathed for so long? For telling me the things I needed to know? Gawain, can you honestly say I look upon you with an expression of hate?" Rynelle said softly, her voice kind. She had learned of her family's murder. Gower's death. Now it was time to release the past and move forwards. "No. I do not. So I say quit this worry and kiss me my Sarmatian knight. What is done is done. It is time to look to the future."


	22. Epilogue: Tell Me What You Know

**A/N:** Wow, another Fic finished! Feeling pretty good at the moment :) Sadly, little old me will be on hiatus for a while, big changes happening in my life at the moment! So I won't be writing for some time, (I don't think!) but for those of you who have liked my KA fics, for Galahad and Gawain DON'T WORRY :P Tristan is next (I'll be finishing his story before I post it - try and make updates a little more succinct :)), and Lancelot has not escaped my clutches just yet either ;) I will give them their own fics soon enough.

Big thanks to all my reviewers - love you guys! Reached 100 reviews! Yay so happy! :) Shout out to **annechou59** and **L. ** as well for favouriting and following. Much appreciated! :)

Research at the bottom! Without much further ado - here you are! The epilogue!

Remember to Read, Review, Follow and Favourite - But as always, most importantly, ENJOY! :)

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...Epilogue...

Tristan watched the celebrations going on around him with little interest. A feast had been ordered to celebrate the returned men, and mourn the dead. Arthur had told all that they should celebrate their victory, for it was owned by all men. He watched, unsmiling, as everyone slowly became intoxicated around him. Any drunkard that staggered too close to him, quickly stumbled away as fast as their legs could carry them.

After all, he had decided it would be bothersome to change and as such barely washed. Yes, he realised he still stank of blood and battle, but it had felt refreshing, good almost, to engage in proper warfare once more. Tristan wanted to savour the feeling. For fifteen years, he had immersed himself in the killing, battles that were not glorious, but full of blood and grime. But in the last four years, he had lost that - despite the occasional skirmish. Damn Arthur and his tranquil peace.

From the moment he had killed two of Gower's scouts, it felt as if he was returning home. Two-thirds of the way through the battle, he had noticed the way Arthur's army was slowly becoming overwhelmed; and he loved every moment of it. It was funny the way certain death made the fighting even sweeter - filled with the desperation for survival.

Tristan realised he had been bored, for a long time now - life did not offer the same dark excitement it used to. He was not like the others, wanting a family, he relished the feel of his blade slicing through the men that got in his way. It all felt like a dance, his sword an extension of himself. He did not care if he was feared by the others. They should fear him. He had lost his soul long ago.

When they had looked to the rise - dotted with reinforcements; Tristan had to contain his surprise (barely) when the men that raced down to begin slaying Gower's army once more, was not in fact the Woad from the North, nor the Roman Lords from the east, but the two brothers - Sagramore and Lionel - Brittons from the West. And there, running alongside them, like a bat out of hell, was that red-headed Woad.

The female scout had piqued his interest momentarily ('momentarily' included the duration of the battle, the clean up afterwards, and currently, standing across the fire from him). Tristan hadn't been this curious about a living thing since discovering his hawk. Then again, there wasn't much actually worth being interested in.

"Knights and fellow Brittons, calm yourselves please!" Arthur called out, his voice echoing about the room, causing chatter and laughter alike to die down. "A toast to every man here that fought for their people. We have victory, and hopefully, we will have peace! To you!"

"To you!" came the answered reply that shook the very rafters.

Tristan winced, the noise really was unbearable...watching couples cuddle wasn't that much more enticing either (especially when three pairs in particular decided to sit directly opposite him). It was his luck that his presence was required only a few moments more before the occasional person began to slip off (often with a partner) in the direction of their rooms. The perfect opportunity to make an unnoticed escape.

• • •

"Did you notice Tristan slip out earlier?" Rynelle whispered quietly to her husband.

Gawain laughed, "No, but he must be getting rather old and slow if you did." he teased, earning himself a sharp jab in the ribs, "Ow!"

"He did seem rather...distant though - more than usual, like he was distracted" Rynelle mused, eyes trained on the door she had seen him leave by; before flickering back to the Woad woman she had seen his gaze intent upon more than once during the night. "Do you not think?"

"There is no 'more distant' than Tristan. He is the very meaning of the word. Also, I prefer not to think, it is too bothersome," Gawain smirked in reply, ignoring the glare his woman sent him. Reaching out, he snaked an arm about her waist and dragged her closer to him, chair and all, "and besides, I have you to do that for me!"

Rynelle rolled her eyes in mock defeat, her thoughts turning from the elusive scout; "Really husband, you are quite despicable." she said, frowning at him severely.

But Gawain simply laughed, eyes twinkling, before taking her hand and brushing his lips against her knuckles, "For you my wife, always."

* * *

**A/N:**

For this story, I actually did a fair bit of Mythology research and '**_The Wedding of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnelle: Introduction'_** Edited by_ Thomas Hahn_, was instrumental in fact; especially this paragraph which I formed as a basis for my telling of the mythology. [Just note people, I'm directly quoting - all copyrights to their respective authors and I suggest you buy the book if you want to read it.] "_Her appearance and behavior - her raggedness, poverty, and general unkemptness, and her antisocial and indiscriminate consumption of vast quantities of food at the wedding feast - make clear that her repulsiveness is a function of her low estate and not simply a wild monstrosity. What brands Ragnelle as a hag is, in the terms defined by the central question of the poem, a form of desire or lack - a lack of manners, beauty, deference; what certifies her as a lady at the end is her possession of these qualities and of Sir Gawain. Though for the bewitched Ragnelle a good man is hard to find, once found he satisfies all her heart's desire."_

So, instead of portraying Rynelle with a physical 'ugliness', I decided it would be (as lewilder pointed out in one of her reviews) an emotional/mental ugliness caused by the experiences she'd had. Linking in the decision Gawain had to 'make' as simply a hypothetica one :)

Just a random (interesting in my opinion) definition I found:

_Your first name, **Rynelle**, creates an independent, determined, and persevering nature._

_You desire to work on your own or at least where you are making your own decisions._

_You enjoy working with your hands and can be resourceful and inventive along practical lines._

_Being much focused on your pursuits, at times you overlook the personal considerations and attentions that create understanding and companionship with others._

_This name causes you to suffer with self-consciousness in new situations and an inability to be diplomatic when situations warrant._

_You are loyal in friendships and express candidly._

_You enjoy outdoors activities with a few close friends._

_Although the name **Rynelle** creates the urge to be creative and original, we emphasize that it causes a blunt expression that alienates others_.

I'm a stickler for the importance of names and hence drew on this definition a bit in my characterisation of this her. (Definition taken from a site called _**Kabalarian**** Philosophy**_. The definition of this name is their property and I would suggest you visit their website if you wish to know more)

So that was it guys! Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! So for now, Over and Out xx


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